


The One Who Listened

by Yve



Category: Rune Factory, Rune Fatory 4
Genre: Age Difference, Conflict, Consenting Adults, Drama, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, Love Triangle, M/M, Making Out, Marriage Proposal, Minor Violence, Sexual Content, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2020-01-10 20:43:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 125,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18415496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yve/pseuds/Yve
Summary: After a rather loud fight occurs between Frey and her boyfriend, Dylas, the princess of Selphia begins to question many things about her relationship. As events unfold, she finds herself more and more grateful for the pointed ears of the town’s blacksmith, the one person who bothered to really listen to her amidst all the tumult of events and emotions.





	1. The Fight

**Author's Note:**

> When I first played Rune Factory 4, I romanced Dylas. I was determined to marry him. But, his marriage event put me off so hard that I swore I’d never marry him. It was after that that I really began to notice Bado. Recently while remembering this, it occurred to me that there’s a pretty interesting premise for a fic in there, so with the encouragement of my fandom friends on Tumblr, I began writing this fic. I used a ton of the in-game dialogue from Dylas’ marriage event, so consider this a spoiler warning just in case you haven’t seen it and are determined to romance that grumpy horse man. This will be my first time writing something with this particular kind of interpersonal drama. It should be rather interesting. I hope you enjoy it!

Part I: Revelation

 

Frey, farmer, warrior, earthmate, princess of Selphia, and savior of its divine dragon, searched in vain for her boyfriend. She asked her butlers whether they’d seen him. They had not. She asked Doug, the constant bickering rival, and possibly best friend, of her paramour. Doug only shook his mop of red hair and shrugged. She asked Venti, the literal God of the town. The enormous dragon tilted her plumed head and muttered indignantly about the comings and goings of mortals and why would she, a _divine dragon_ bother herself with such trivial matters, anyway? Frey chuckled at her unusual friend’s good-humored griping, and walked out the front gate of the castle to the courtyard.

 

She looked up at the cold blue sky on this crisp fall day and propped her hands on her hips, sighing. All that was left to do was go find him herself. She began walking along the wide, flat stones of the paved roads. Northeast would have been first, except she’d already been there, looking for Dylas where he both lived and worked. Porcoline De Sainte Coquille had said the young man left earlier that day with a purposeful look about him, but where he had gone the portly chef could not say. She proceeded to the Northwest corner of town. Perhaps he’d gone to take a bath, requesting the water be extra hot during the less busy hours. He did like his baths bordering on scalding.

 

Frey chewed her lip as she walked. He’d been avoiding her lately. She knew it. Well, how could she not, after all? Dylas was many things, but subtle was certainly not one of them. He’d blown her off time and time again over the last week, giving short, curt responses whenever she asked where he was going or what he was doing. It was so much like when he’d first come to Selphia, awakened after some few hundred years slumber in a place known only as the ‘Forest of Beginnings’. Venti assured Frey he was just as he had been before he’d allowed himself to be sacrificed for the sake of preserving the dragon god’s life. So, Frey knew it was simply in his nature to be surly and laconic at times.

 

Still, he’d been so different with her especially as their relationship had progressed. She may not know what exactly had gotten into him, but she did know she did _not_ like it. She was the _princess_ , damnit! She’d get to the bottom of this and fix whatever was wrong. She always did. She was unstoppable.

 

Lin Fa smiled warmly at Frey as she told her unfortunately no, Dylas had not come by for a bath yet that day. More and more anxious by each passing minute, Frey bid the kind but forgetful woman adieu and went outside to proceed Southward. On the way out she encountered Xiao Pai, who greeted her in her unusual way, but when prompted offered up her first clue of the morning.

 

“Dylas?” She asked, tilting her head curiously, “It seems I saw him in Bado’s shop earlier. Have you tried looking there?” Fortunately, Xiao Pai’s strange way of speaking hadn’t prevented Frey from understanding this time. She thanked the girl for her help, and strode toward the ‘Meanderer’ blacksmith & curiosity shop with an urgent, purposeful stride.

 

The big iron door handle felt familiar in her hand as Frey tugged it open to the chime of the shop’s bell. Like most places in town, she frequented this establishment often. Actually, she might be here a little more often than some other locations around town. The blacksmith and proprietor of the strange little shop, Bado, was a mischievous and jovial sort. She’d found him agreeable company for bantering and joking with since she’d established herself in Selphia.

 

The man himself was stationed in his usual spot behind the shop’s counter, tapping the butt of a pencil against his bearded chin as he contemplated a peculiar vase on the counter before him, notepad tucked under one burly arm as he furrowed his brow in thought.

 

“Hi Bado!” Frey called as she entered. She raised a hand to greet him and the tall, broad-shouldered man finally turned to see who had entered.

 

“Heya, Frey.” He called in his deep basso voice,  a grin spreading across his bearded face. Even the pointed dwarf’s ears jutting out form his dark, ruffled hair seemed to perk up. She returned the smile to her odd friend. “Got any good schemes for makin’ money?” He asked, as per usual.

 

“Haven’t you thought of them all by now anyway?” She replied, shaking her head.

 

“There’s always the next one.” He said, almost gleefully. “If I’ve thought of them all, that just means it’s time to come up with new ones!” Frey laughed obligingly at his speech, hands on her hips.

 

“You’ll never learn.” She said, half-rueful, half-playful.

 

“Boy, I hope not.” He agreed, “Life would get so boring!”

 

“Yeah I suppose so.” She allowed, then tilted her head at the big man and pointed to the vase. What’s the scheme with this one?

 

“I’m thinkin’ maybe it’s cursed.” He said, tugging on his beard as he furrowed his brow at the thing.

 

“It is?” She said, surprised. He grinned wickedly at her.

 

“Curses aren’t real, Frey.”

 

“Jeeze!” She cried, exasperated, and threw her hands up. “You really are the worst.” The big man laughed an enormous, booming laugh that filled up the shop.

 

“At least I’m the _best_ at being the worst.” He said finally. “Anyway, how much do you think I should sell it for?”

 

“How much did you buy it for?”

 

“Twelve Thousand.”

 

“More than that.” She said, as if giving some great advice. Bado snorted.

 

“Quick as a whip, you are, Princess.” She smiled at his quip, enjoying the stupid banter, as always. But, she still had a mission to attend to.

 

“Hey have you seen Dylas?” Something flickered through Bado’s expression as he understood her question. He looked sidelong into his workshop, adjacent to the main room of the store.

 

“Sure have. Seen a _lot_ o’ him lately. If I’d a’ known he’d  be using my workbench _this_ much, I’d’ve charged him by the hour!” Frey’s eyebrows rose. It wasn’t particularly in Dylas’ wheelhouse to be focusing so hard on crafting. But, then again, he tended to do whatever suited him in the moment. She wondered what he’d become so interested in crafting, all of a sudden.

 

“Thanks, Bado!” She said cheerfully, turning to stride impatiently toward the forge area. She recognized the peculiar silhouette of Dylas immediately once she entered the workshop. His bestial ears and swishing, long-haired tail were dead giveaways, of course.

 

“Dylas!” She called brightly, determined to get his attention this time and not be brushed off. The man nearly jumped out of his skin. She stopped in her tracks as he spun around, glaring. His amber eyes locked onto her and a mixture of emotions seemed to pass through them. His face settled into a glowering, unfriendly mask. “Dylas?” She repeated, uncertain this time.

 

“How long have you been standing there?” He demanded.

 

“I just got here.” She said slowly, looking warily at her boyfriend. “What are you getting all flustered for?”

 

“Who cares?” He snapped, “Just leave me alone. And quit following me around!”

 

“Dylas?” She asked, voice beginning to tremble. He hadn’t been so hostile to her in a long time. What the hell was going on? He made for the door, staring straight ahead as he passed her. She grabbed at his arm. “Hey!”

 

“Leave me alone! I don’t have time for you!” He shouted. She released him, face blanching in shock and pain. His words rang in her ears. His own mean expression faltered and he looked guilty for a beat as he saw her wince.  

 

“Why not?” She said in a small voice.

 

He looked uncertainly at her for one more moment before slamming his defenses back up.

 

“What’s it matter, anyway? Just leave me alone!”

 

“But—”

 

“Argh! How many times do I have to say it? GET LOST!” He bellowed. Frey winced again but anger had been stirred in her. She’d grown to have a thick skin around Dylas, especially being so close to him, but _this_. How could he dismiss her like this? How could he treat her like she was nothing, just an annoyance he wanted rid of?

 

“Why are you ignoring me?” She demanded, raising her own voice.

 

“I am not!” He snapped back.

 

“Yes you are!” She countered, gesturing in anger.

 

“Am not! I just don’t want to talk to you!” He barked. Her anger cracked and the hurt came through in her voice, now.

 

“Why not? Why are you avoiding me like this?” She stared into his eyes, voice shaking. He flinched and swallowed. “You don’t want to talk to me. You don’t want to see me. It’s like you’ve gone back to the old you.”

 

“That’s because you just… won’t leave me alone.” He said quietly: frustrated, but with no force behind it. “Anyway. Get lost. Don’t make me say it again.” He muttered, looking determinedly away from her as he tried again to leave.

 

“You can’t just expect me to—” She said, snatching at his arm again, once more fired up. How could he yell at her and then just walk off like this? Didn’t the last few months mean anything to him?

 

As her fingers closed on his sleeve he whirled on her, fury in his face.

 

“The hell is wrong with you?! Why can’t you just—” He roared, but stopped short as a loud crash shattered the moment. They both turned in pure reaction. In the doorway to the workshop, the very tall and very bulky silhouette of shop’s proprietor stood with arms held out slightly before him, his head turned to regard Dylas with cold contempt in his blue-gray eyes, a burning ember of orange light from the forge smoldering in them. Before him on the ground, the strange vase was shattered into countless jagged shards at his feet. He did not look down at it.

 

“Whoops.” He said, flat, low, and dangerous. His glare stuck to Dylas like glue. Frey glanced from Bado to Dylas, who, swallowing nervously, hurried past the big man with his head ducked low and stormed out of the shop. As his back disappeared behind the heavy door swinging shut, Frey’s tears spilled over just as the door’s bell chimed.

 

Her face plunged into her hands and her shoulders shook. Through it all she felt a blush flare up in her face. She hated to be seen so undone, so vulnerable. Somehow being bullied by her boyfriend in front of a _witness_ made the situation twice as horrible.

 

“I’m s-sorry,” She stammered, embarrassed and hurt and miserable, “For the disturbance. We didn’t mean to b-bother you.” She could feel the blacksmith’s eyes on her and she glanced up through the distortion of the tears that flowed freely, expecting that same fury to be directed at her. She blinked in surprise, her eyes momentarily clearing as her mind slowed for a beat.

 

The gaze that watched her was almost a mirror of her misery. He looked hollowed-out, almost grimacing as he watched her. Their eyes locked onto one another for one breath, then two. Frey’s brow knit together as confusion joined the tempest of emotions inside her chest. He broke the stare and looked away.

 

“You ain’t done anythin’ wrong.” He said quietly, voice a little rough.

 

“Your vase, though…” She replied wiping at her eyes as the flow of tears continued, unbidden. “Let me pay for it.” The big man let out a weary sigh.

 

“Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing.” He said, sounding dejected.

 

“It’s cause we were fighting, though, right? I’m sorry.” She repeated, looking down.

 

“Quit apologizing.” He said, a twist of his usual humor struggling to find purchase in his voice. “I’ll glue it back together and lean hard on the curse angle.” He gave a half-hearted smirk at her and she gave a choking little laugh, still crying.

 

“You never give up, do you?”

 

He snorted, but said nothing in reply to this. He did, however, pull a clean handkerchief from one of the many pockets of his work clothes and hand it to her with one big, gloved hand.

 

“Thanks.” She all but whispered, taking it gratefully and dabbing at her eyes. He watched her, face a mask with sorrowful eyes.

 

The tears just wouldn’t stop. Her face burned with humiliation. It was bad enough that he’d heard the whole thing, heard her boyfriend shouting her down just for trying to start a conversation with him. Now she was bawling in front of this usually goofy man and he was looking at her like _that_ . Being pitied only made her feel _more_ embarrassed in this moment.

 

“Ya know…” He began, but trailed off. She sniffled, and looked up as he quietly made a frustrated sound in his throat. “That whole thing… It ain’t right.” He said awkwardly, as if there were a great deal more he was holding himself back from saying. Condemnations of Dylas, probably. She couldn’t quite blame him, just now. She, herself, felt as much fury as pain for her paramour just at this moment. But, he was hers and she understood that there was something kind and caring underneath all his gruff.

 

“He’s just in a bad mood or something.” She mumbled, without much conviction behind it.

 

“It’s _not. Right_.” Bado repeated firmly, speaking more deliberately than his usual casual manner. He stared into her eyes, his determined. She blinked, surprised. He glanced away again, adding. “I just…”

 

“He’s normally not that bad.” Frey said, abashedly tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. Bado raised a big, square-ish hand to stop her objection.

 

“I’d just…” He tried again, expression strained, “…rather see you happy, Frey.” He said, glancing at her and away again.  “You deserve better.” She stared at him, taken utterly off-guard by the suddenly serious attitude of the man she knew to be nothing but a frequently mischievous and always lazy trickster.

 

“Um… thanks, Bado…” She murmured, staring at him as he stared down at the broken ceramic on the floor. What was she supposed to say in this scenario? He looked up at her and gave the barest hint of a smile, looking tired in every angle of his huge person.

 

“You’re welcome.” He said quietly. His eyes combed over her briefly as she fidgeted with the handkerchief. “You can stay as long as you like, while you get your wits about you. I don’t mind.” He grabbed a broom and dustpan and began gathering up the broken vase before she managed to thank him. She sat down on the bench in the workshop, feeling exhausted.

 

Dylas… He’d just… She winced as she thought back through the exchange. He’d spoken almost as if he _hated_ her. Of course, she knew by the example of how he and Doug interacted that Dylas could easily sound that way while actually having great affection and respect for a person. What came out of his mouth just didn’t match what was in his heart, most of the time. She knew this. She knew it so well, and yet…

 

…and yet… she was so _tired._ Not just tired from the exhausting aftermath of the conflict itself. Tired of _always_ being ‘on’ around him. Tired of always having to interpret his aloofness and his temper. Tired of feeling the hurt of his careless and sometimes just plain _mean_ way of talking to her, but still having to brush that hurt aside because she knew he didn’t _mean_ to hurt her.

 

For the first time since she’d confessed her feelings for the guardian she’d awoken from his centuries-long slumber, she wondered if she really wanted to be with him.

 

“It’s _not. Right.”_

 

Bado’s words from a moment ago sounded again in her mind with the clarity appropriate to such a fresh memory. She shook herself.

 

 _‘No. I love Dylas. Loving someone means you accept them and their faults… right?’_ She dabbed at her tears again, brow still knitted. A long, exhausted sigh slipped out of her and she stood up from the bench. She wasn’t going to be able to fix this tonight. She may as well go home and try to get her mind off of it for a little while.

 

With rounded shoulders and a slumped, defeated posture, Frey shuffled out of the workshop and toward the front door, but stopped as she passed by Bado arranging some small wares on a shelf.

 

“Thanks for giving me time.” She said in a hollow voice. “Sorry again for the disturbance.”

 

Bado stopped what he was doing and turned toward her, looking her up and down and sighing fretfully.

 

“You gonna be okay?” He said, not even replying to her polite but distant speech. She gave him a half-smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

 

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.” She said. He stared at her, plainly not convinced by her words. She smiled numbly again and moved to go. As she began to walk, she held up a fist and lightly tapped his arm with the back of her closed hand. “I’m fine, ya big goof. Don’t worry so much.”

 

A huge, strong hand caught her wrist as she moved to walk away, gripping gently, but firmly too. She turned and looked up into the face of the taller man. His eyes looked hard, steel in his expression, but his brow was still fretful as he looked at her.

 

“Frey…” He began, stalling out briefly as her own expression mirrored his gravitas. “No one should talk that way to you… _ever_ … especially not your lover.” She opened her mouth to assure him Dylas never meant anything by these outbursts but he held up his other hand, forestalling her protestations. “Don’t make excuses for him.” He said, expression growing dark for a beat. “Just… take care of yourself. This whole town needs you, Frey.” The blue-gray eyes that fixed on her softened now. She stared at the man, transfixed for a beat. It was so unlike her jovial, carefree friend to look and speak this way, as if the weight of the world were pressing down on his broad shoulders.

 

“Okay…” She all but whispered, watching his eyes.

 

“Good.” He sighed quietly, still not breaking his gaze. The moment seemed to stretch out. His grip on her arm had softened but his hand did not retreat yet. She did not pull away, either.

 

Then, as if suddenly realizing where he was, Bado blinked and stepped back from her, shuffling in place with an awkward, uncomfortable air.

 

“A-anyway,” He fumbled, trailing off.

 

Frey smiled gently at him, a weak but genuine expression this time.

 

“Thanks, Bado…” She said quietly, “for caring.”

 

“O’course.” He replied, mirroring her frail smile.

 

“Have a good night.”

 

“You too, if at all possible.”

 

She nodded slightly and turned to go, slipping out through the heavy door with barely a tinkle from the shop bell. As the door swung slowly shut, she caught a sound from inside: a protracted, weary sigh.


	2. The Beginning

The crystal blue water lapping at the crumbling edges of the ruins sparkled in the late summer sun. Frey stared down at the rippling, shining surface with a fretful expression. This place… this was where she’d met him… or to be more specific, this is where she’d fought him until he lost consciousness and transformed from a horse-like monster into a man. Even as a monster, Dylas had been more aggressive than most. He’d nearly knocked her out back then. She remembered standing over his still form on the stones, dripping sweat and blood as she panted and stared at him, the fight having taken nearly every last drop of her rune energy. Then, there he was, a stranger displaced in time. Knowing no one and missing his memory… like her. 

 

Selphia had accepted him without question, just like her. But, unlike her he’d been sullen and prickly toward Selphia’s people. For the first two months he’d told her off every time she tried to say hello to him. Eventually, however, her stubborn insistence on being nice to him had drawn out a different side of him. She grew to love him, enough to confess her feelings and ask him out, even. He’d taken some convincing then, too. But, he’d eventually agreed to go out with her. Since then their relationship had mostly shown her his better side. His aloofness and occasional snappish tendencies hadn’t deterred her. Nothing had… until this. 

 

She sighed, sitting down at the edge of this ruined temple. She’d cleared out the monsters for now on her way to this spot. The emptiness of the place punctured only by the gentle sounds of the water all around and the chirping of birds. She hung her feet over the edge, the toes of her boots suspended an inch or two above the surface. 

 

This time… he’d not only ignored her and refused to even explain why… he’d grown more angry and hostile the more she tried to talk to him. 

 

‘ _ Is this how it’s going to be… any time I have to confront him on something or even say something he doesn’t want to hear?’  _ She sighed. After six months of slowly growing their relationship since asking him out… that side of him was still there. It might  _ always _ be there, she realized. 

 

‘ _ He’s always saying how he isn’t good with words…’  _ She thought, frowning, ‘ _ but it isn’t just about the words… he isn’t just clumsy… he’s…  _ mean _.’  _ She chewed her lower lip. She hadn’t signed up for this. Or… was it even fair to say that? She was the one who pursued him despite his bad attitude and prickly disposition. Why did she think he’d be completely different now, just because she was his girlfriend? 

 

Below her the water stilled as the breeze lapsed for a time. Her reflection grew clearer and she saw the anxious, unhappy expression on her face. She sighed heavily and swiped a bit of debris into the water to disturb the surface again.

 

“You’re borrowing trouble.” She told herself aloud, “It’s just a fight. Couples fight. Besides, maybe this is your fault. What if he’s angry with you because you did something that hurt his feelings and you didn’t even realize it? No wonder he doesn’t want to explain it to you.” 

 

She chewed her lip again. She honestly couldn’t think of what on earth she might have done to upset him so much. She’d felt the last few months especially had been lovely. They'd been getting along so well… what could it be? It just didn’t make sense if she’d really done nothing though. What on earth other than that could provoke him to act like this?

 

Some unknown length of time passed as she ruminated. But she’d thought it over a dozen times already. There was nothing… or rather there must be something she didn’t know. It just didn’t add up, otherwise. In any case, she wasn’t going to figure anything else out until Dylas agreed to explain it to her. She gave a heavy sigh and stood up, dusting off her skirt and taking a last look around the place where he had been entombed for half a millennium.

 

He’d come back to a world he never expected to see again, every person he’d ever known so long dead no one even knew their names anymore. She couldn’t give up on him. He’d had it rough enough without being forsaken by the person who should understand him best in his new life. She steeled herself against the hurt still aching in her heart and began walking back out of the ruins. 

 

As her feet crunched onto the pebbly road leading to the ruins she looked down the wooded path toward her home and considered  the walk back. It would take at least an hour… plenty of time to overthink things. No. She’d tried being along with her thoughts all morning. Nothing more could be gained that way. She needed to get back and hear someone else’s voice for a change. She closed her eyes and concentrated, drawing the rune energy her body so effortlessly channeled into the center of her and holding it there. Her brow furrowed as she pictured a place that pulled her like the moon pulled the tide: home. The only home she’d ever known, since she’d forgotten whatever had preceded it. Her connection to the castle at the center of town was forged in her relationship to Venti, her butlers, her monster pets, her fields full of lush, cultivated crops, her own workshop where she crafted whatever she needed with her own hands… her own bed. The sense of the place, so crisply familiar in her memory came rushing back to her. She let the visualization absorb her. The breeze and the birdsong began to grow distant to her senses. It was so easy to believe she’d see her bedroom around her if she opened her eyes…

 

She released the runes and a flash of bright green light enveloped her as she whispered: “Return!” A rushing sensation took her for the barest fraction of time, then the world around her changed. The dappled sunlight filtering through the trees, the birds, the warm air moving freely around her all vanished in a heartbeat, replaced by the cool shaded interior of the castle and the familiar scents of her own living quarters. She opened her eyes and her bedroom really was the scene that greeted her. By the gods, this spell was by far the best perk of being an Earthmate, she thought, smirking. 

 

Frey took her time making a simple lunch for herself and ate it at a relaxed pace as she continued cooking, preparing a whole variety of dishes for a whole variety of people. Chinese manju, onigiri, fruit juice, relax tea, a whole cake… she went through her mental list of all her friends around town and made something she knew each of them liked. Carefully packing the items into a basket, she set out about town, looking forward to some sense of normalcy.

 

* * * * *

 

Bado, retired knight, wayward dwarf, questionable shopkeeper, and blacksmith of Selphia, smiled to himself as his foster son, Kiel relayed the town’s latest gossip. 

 

“Yeah,” Kiel was saying, “I overheard it from our house down the street, since you had the windows open and all.” The young man looked concerned. “It was pretty bad, wasn’t it? Wait, why are you smiling?” 

 

Bado mastered himself and bent his face to hide his excitement. He made a show of scribbling something down on his tattered little notepad, leaning over the counter and not making eye contact.

 

“Sorry, my mind got away from me for a minute, there.” He mumbled, “You were saying… folks are pretty bent about it all?” Kiel nodded. 

 

“Yeah. I wouldn’t be surprised if Dylas has an angry mob after him at this rate.” 

 

Bado suppressed another smile. It wasn’t that he was  _ happy _ Dylas had so abused their town’s princess, not at all. But… he  _ was _ pleased that she might have a reason not to be involved with the ex-guardian anymore. He hadn’t thought much of the younger man since he arrived in town but he was as always perfectly willing to mind his own and let others do as they pleased. That is, he was until he saw  _ her _ on his arm. 

 

“I’m worried about Frey.” Kiel continued, “Clorica said she looked really sad yesterday evening.” 

 

Now Bado’s look of concern became altogether more genuine. 

 

“Yeah, me too.” He agreed, remembering her tears the day before.

 

“I’m sure Dylas didn’t mean to hurt her.” Kiel said thoughtfully. “I’ll bet they’ll work it out and make up in the end.” 

 

Bado grunted, not an plain objection, but certainly not an agreement, either. If Dylas could talk to her like that and be easily forgiven, what was there to stop the half-monster from barking at her any time he felt ruffled? The blacksmith’s expression grew dark. Under normal circumstances, he’d never even think to go to the trouble of interfering. But then again, no circumstances were normal for him when it came to Frey. He sighed. 

 

“You… have a horse in this race?” Kiel ventured hesitantly. Bado blinked at him, bending an eyebrow at the youth. “Your face just now.” Kiel continued, “You don’t like the idea of them getting back together?” 

 

“I didn’t say that.” He countered. 

 

“You didn’t have to.” Kiel replied, his own sandy-blond eyebrows climbing higher. A slight smirk appearing at the corner of his mouth. Bado eyed him warningly 

 

“Don’t you go spreading baseless rumors, now, kid.” He growled, pointing at his foster son.  Kiel raised his hands disarmingly. 

 

“I won’t, I won’t.” He assured, smirk growing into a ill-disguised smile. 

 

“Wipe that grin off your face, Kiel.” Bado grumbled, “I just don’t like how he talks to her. Don’t read too much into it.” 

 

“I didn’t say anything.” Kiel shook his head, still smiling. Bado eyed him suspiciously, but the young man simply shook off his guardian’s stare and excused himself. Once the door creaked shut again, Bado stared at it, chewing his lip. He shook his head and sighed, looking back down at his notes. His fingers twirled the pencil but he wrote nothing. 

 

“You should just tell her.” Kiel's voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts again. He looked up to see the boy peering in through the open window on the west-facing wall of the shop. Bado rose out of his seat and stepped toward the window, thunder in his expression. Kiel laughed and flitted away down the street. 

 

“Damned little imp.” Bado muttered to himself. “He’s entirely too perceptive.” Kiel got that from his mother. Lily could always see right through him, too. “ _ And I don’t suppose you would have hesitated like this.”  _ He thought as he pictured his old friend’s face. Forte and Kiel’s father had never really left his life, despite having left the living world years ago. 

 

The dwarven man made a gruff, frustrated sound and went back to his seat behind the counter. He sat there, tapping the butt of his pencil against the pages for a time, but no fresh ideas came to him. Only the image of a young beautiful woman with emerald green eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve incorporated mention of Kiel & Forte’s parents in this chapter. My names for them and the particulars of their friendship to Bado are my own headcanon but it IS canon in game that Bado was friends with them and this is the reason why he has been Forte & Kiel’s guardian for some ten years or so. 
> 
> Originally, I planned to limit this whole fic to Frey’s POV but as I was writing the outline for the whole thing, it became apparent I’d need to jump to other characters’ POV from time to time because of the events of the story as I’m currently imagining it. So, I figured I may as well start early for some of that delicious unrequited love. Wistful Bado is so adorable, after all~


	3. The Well-Intended

She went to see Arthur first, knowing he’d probably skipped lunch to continue working again. Sure enough, the true prince of Selphia sat behind his desk, scratching at some complicated document with a quil, a look of determined concentration on his bespectacled face. Frey smiled to herself and rapped gently on the door as she entered. Arthur looked up and smiled, waving her in.

 

“Ah, good afternoon Frey.” He said warmly. “How are you doing? Come to see the harvest report?”

 

“Yeah I’ll take a look while I’m here.” She replied, approaching the desk. She drew out a sandwich wrapped in a delicately patterned handkerchief and passed it over the desk to him. 

 

“Ah,” he said, abashed, but smiling gratefully, “You caught me.” She winked at him, doing her best to smile, only her best wasn’t enough. “Frey?” He asked, suddenly concerned, “Are you alright? You look as though you’ve been through something quite trying.” She glanced away, reluctant to answer. He frowned.

 

“Is it about the fight?” He asked gently. Frey looked back at him, surprised. 

 

“How did you know?” She demanded. Had Bado gone around telling people about her and Dylas’ shameful display of romantic disharmony?

 

“Well, it would seem several people heard you two through the open windows of Bado’s workshop…” He said, wincing. “Your disagreement was audible from quite a distance.”

 

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Frey hurried to say, blushing, “We didn’t mean to be that loud.” She stubbornly refused to look up at him as she spoke, burning with embarrassment. Even without looking, though, she could feel his garnet colored eyes on her. After a moment, he gave a little disapproving ‘hm’ and adjusted his glasses. 

 

“Well, I won’t press you for details. After all, I expect this is entirely Dylas’ fault. He never says enough to get his true point across.”

 

”But…” Frey countered, pausing. Saying her thoughts out loud in front of Arthur wasn’t particularly appealing in this moment, but she was already embarrassed as it was, so she chanced it. “I’m worried I might have done something to hurt him without knowing it.”

 

Arthur fixed her with another long stare, wheels clearly turning behind those piercing eyes. Finally, he stood up, pocketing the wrapped sandwich as he did so. 

 

”Dylas is lucky to have someone so concerned for him. If you don’t mind, why don’t you leave the rest to me?” 

 

”What are you going to do?” Frey asked, blinking as Arthur walked around her and paced to the door. He opened it, paused, and looked back at her. 

 

”Lecture him.” The prince said simply, then left.

 

Frey stood there blinking for a moment or two before she huffed out a breath and moved to continue her rounds. She moved to the door on the left, leading to the restaurant. She tensed as she reached for the handle, but steeled herself and opened it anyway. She’d considered the possibilities. If Dylas were working today, she’d ignore him. Clearly he wanted space, but that didn’t mean she had to avoid her friends too just to spare  _ him _ the sight of his girlfriend that he ‘didn’t have time for’. She smothered the grimace that came over her features as the bitter thought passed through her mind. 

 

The gentle sound of Meg’s music greeted her as she entered the room. A quick scan showed her Dylas was not working. She felt her shoulders drop with relief. She walked to the counter to greet the portly chef and proprietor of the dining hall. 

 

“Hi, Porco!” She called, handing him a dish of miso eggplant from her basket. He liked any well-cooked dish, so she tried to give him a variety. He gave a delighted giggle and downed the snack with a quick motion, even going as far as to lick the dish quickly before returning it to her and sucking the last bit of sauce from a fingertip. She smiled as best she could. Porco’s genuine delight over her cooking lifted her spirits just a little. 

 

“Frey? What’s wrong? You look as flat as a flopped pie!” He exclaimed, dashing around the counter and seizing her hand. His huge watery eyes plied her with his concern. 

 

“Um…” She squeaked, unsure whether she wanted to invite Porco’s well intended but dramatic reactions into the situation. 

 

“Did something happen with Dylas?” He asked, blue eyes suddenly flashing with a hardness that wasn’t there before. Her eyes widened and that was apparently enough for Porcoline to consider his suspicions confirmed. “Hmm. Don’t worry. I’ll give him a most stern, severe and serious speech. He won’t get away with making you sad again.” He assured her, patting her hand before making a hasty exit through the front door of the restaurant, ingredients pattering to the floor from his apron pockets in his haste. Staring after him with the ghost of a smirk, Frey bent to pick up a plum from the floor and placed it on the counter. 

 

“What was that about?” Meg asked suddenly, stooping to help her collect the fallen items. She glanced sideways at Frey then turned sharply to look at her more closely. “Frey? What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

 

Frey sighed. Did she have to be this transparent? 

 

“Well, Dylas and I kind of…” She trailed off. Meg puffed up like a furious cat.

 

“Rrrrgh!! Why that no good-! How  _ dare _ he make you cry!” She fumed, “I’m gonna give him a scolding that will blister his ears!” She declared, hands balled into fists. Then she softened as she looked again at Frey. “So don’t worry, okay? Besides, you look better with a smile than a frown.” She finished, winking at her friend. 

 

Frey smiled wanly. 

 

“Thanks-” She began, but trailed off again as Meg, too, dashed out of the restaurant in search of Dylas. 

 

‘ _ Wow… half the town’s gonna be after him at this rate.’ _ She thought, a tiny bit of satisfaction coming unbidden with the thought. She left the restaurant and continued Westward toward the airship port. As she neared it a huge, burly silhouette sparked recognition and she called out to her butler.

 

“Mr. Volkanon! Good morning.” She greeted him, doing her best to smile and hoping her state of mind wasn’t too obvious this time. 

 

Volkanon turned from the courier he had been speaking with and returned her warm greeting. 

 

“Well hello, Miss Frey! How—But wait, what’s this? Are you not with sir Dylas today on his day off?” He inquired. She faltered. It was a reasonable enough question as she would normally be spending the time with Dylas whenever he had a free moment. But, in this moment she just wanted to pretend she didn’t have a boyfriend. 

 

“O-oh… well, you see… we sorta…” She mumbled, looking away. Volkanon’s face purpled as a look of rage came over him. 

 

“Whaaaaaaaat?” He roared, obviously inferring her hurt feelings by the reddened, puffy state of her eyes and her general lack of vitality. His broad chest swelled out and his huge fists clenched so tightly his kid gloves creaked. “Leave this to me.” He growled. She looked up at him, alarmed.

 

“What are you going to do?” 

 

“Punch him!” The huge man declared. Frey looked aghast. 

 

“W-wait—” She called, but he’d launched his considerable self with startling efficiency into a full sprint to the South. 

 

‘ _ Gosh… I hope he doesn’t  _ actually  _ hit him.’  _ She thought, trying not to let her mind make any comments on whether he deserved it after all. 

 

Frey proceeded to the bathhouse inn in the Northwest corner of town to deliver Chinese Manju to Xiao Pai and Lin Fa, who’s reaction when she saw Frey was rather consistent with the other townsfolk. 

 

”Oh dear. What’s wrong? You look upset.” She said, frowning concernedly at the princess.  Frey sighed. 

 

”Well I kinda got in a fight…” She admitted. 

 

” Oh My. With Dylas?”

 

”Yes.” She said, dejected. Lin Fa actually gave a tinkling laugh, smiling warmly at Frey.

 

”Oh, well, Don’t worry about it. You’re both still young. You’ve got lots of arguments ahead of you. Besides, this was Dylas’ fault, I’m sure.”

 

Frey blinked at Lin Fa, surprised that she could be so sure there was no problem. 

 

”But… I might have done something to hurt him without realizing it.” She said slowly.

 

”I doubt that. Everything will all work out. Don’t you worry. He’ll come apologize before too long so let him fuss over you when he does, okay?” She said, reaching out and squeezing Frey’s hand with another reassuring smile. 

 

”…Okay.” Frey said, giving her faint smile back to the woman. As she turned to go, however, her face returned to a fretful expression. Shouldn’t she feel reassured by Lin Fa’s words? Instead, she felt like a stone had settled into her gut. 

 

She walked South, into the residential district, and bumped into Kiel. The younger man turned around, recognized her, and gave her that same concerned look that everyone around town had been today. Kiel, however, got straight to the point:

 

”Frey, did you and Dylas get in a fight?” He asked without preamble.

 

”Wow, does everybody know?” She sighed. 

”We’ll you were yelling pretty loudly, ya know.” He replied, giving her a sympathetic smile. 

 

”Oh…”

 

”C’mon, cheer up! I mean, I’m sure Dylas doesn’t want it this way, either. You two will be back together in no time.” Kiel said brightly.

 

”Thanks.” Frey said, again giving the hollow smile she’d used so much this morning. “By the way, this is for you.” She added, pulling out another little parcel, this time with pound cake in it. “There’s some for Forte in there too.”

 

“Oh wow! Thanks, Frey!” He grinned. “She’ll be so happy! And I'm happy too!” 

 

They said goodbye and Frey proceeded through the streets of Selphia. Upon reaching the side street where the ‘Meanderer‘ was located, she paused, looking in the direction of the place where she’d fought with Dylas the day before. She sighed, remembering his amber eyes flashing with anger. Then, she remembered a different pair of eyes burning with dislike. The image of Bado standing in the doorway, glaring at Dylas as he stood over the broken vase at his feet, appeared in her mind unbidden. Frey blinked. She’d relived the argument in her mind at least a dozen times over the last twelve hours, even into the early hours as sleep eluded her. But, this was the first time she’d thought of that moment since it’d happened. 

 

“Oops.” The low, flat tone of Bado’s voice, almost like a growl as he looked at Dylas with those eyes, normally so easygoing but now simmering with wrath. Frey blinked rapidly. He’d dropped the thing on purpose to interrupt them. She’d only just realized. ‘ _ Stupid.’  _ She chided herself. ‘ _ How did I miss that?’ _

 

Everyone in town had been  _ assuming _ it had been Dylas’ fault that they’d fought. Bado knew, though. He’d been there. He  _ knew  _ what Dylas had said to her and he’d intervened in his own odd way. Frey bent her brow and chewed her lip. She heard the big man’s words again in her mind. 

 

“You ain’t done anything wrong…” 

 

“I’d rather see you happy, Frey…” 

 

“It’s  _ not. Right. _ ”

 

She shook herself and swallowed, overwhelmed. It was too much, just now. Yes, she had the usual gift in her basket for the  blacksmith, but she’d go to see him last. Perhaps that would give her enough time to shake off the sudden butterflies in her stomach. 

 

The princess of Selphia proceeded to the ‘Little Bandage’ clinic and entered without hesitation. 

 

“Good day! What can we do to help?” Nancy’s sing-song greeting met her ears as she stepped inside. “Oh, Frey! What a nice surprise, especially considering you don’t look like you’re injured this time.” She gave the princess a wry look. Nancy was always scolding her whenever she came back with so much as a scrape from her misadventures in the outskirts of town and beyond. 

 

The nurse walked up to Frey and her expression changed. There it was again, that concerned look. The more people fixed her with that gaze, the more mixed up inside Frey felt. 

 

”What’s wrong? You don’t look happy today.”

 

”Well, Dylas and I kinda, well…” She thumped a fist at her side against her thigh, enduring this all-too-familiar embarrassment yet again. 

 

”Ah, so you had a fight?” Nancy asked in kindly, understanding tones. “You know, that reminds me of when Jones and I were young.” She added, looking up with a fond expression. Frey perked up with interest.

 

”Did you two fight?” She asked. Was there any hope she and her boyfriend would someday be the kind of lovey-dovey married couple Nancy and Jones were?

 

”Oh, did we ever! You wouldn’t believe some of the terrible things he said!” She said, tone becoming hot for a moment. Then she resumed her usual girlish air. “Once he even… heehee it was so funny!” Nancy began to giggle. 

 

“What?” Frey prompted.

 

”I’m sorry. I got caught up in the memories.” Nancy said, waving a hand in the air. “But yes, Jones and I argued a lot. Now though, we can look back on those days and laugh. It was hard at the time but now we realize it wasn’t that bad after all. So don't worry. I’m sure you two will be able to get past whatever it is. Sooner or later the time will come when you understand each other.” She looked fondly at Frey as she finished. Frey struggled to dredge up the smile once more.

 

”Thanks.” She said, voice strained this time. She offered Nancy a dish of pumpkin flan, and explained she’d also brought one for Dr. Jones. Nancy thanked her graciously and pointed her to the exam room explaining her husband was writing up some records in there. 

 

Frey approached the town’s doctor, already holding out the gift she brought, hoping to have the conversation over with before he had the opportunity to notice her state of mind. Her hopes were not realized. 

 

”Oh, hello Frey. What’s wrong? You don’t look terribly happy today.” He adopted his usual doctor-to-patient tone, “What is it?” She sighed.

 

”Well, Dylas and I kinda… well…” She trailed off.

 

”Oh no! Did you dump him?” He asked, face fretful. Frey started, looking up at him in surprised bewilderment.

”Huh? Dump him? N-no, I—”

”Sorry I got a little ahead of myself.” He hurried to say, “I assume you argued?”

 

”Yeah.” Frey said warily, feeling an entirely new set of unpleasant emotions in light of this new reaction. 

”Ah well that’s a path many couples go down more than once.” He said, similarly unconcerned to Nancy and Lin Fa.

 

”Do you and Nancy argue?” Frey asked, buying time to think. 

 

”Of course. But it’s a fond memory now. We even laugh at some of them. So don’t worry. Work together to overcome whatever the problem is. I’m sure you’ll find something precious beyond it.” He assured her with a fond, fatherly sort of smile. It looked odd on the man. He was not, after all, old enough to make a likely father of someone her age. 

 

“ _ A fond memory? Of that?”  _ The thought came unbidden into her mind. She shoved it down for the moment and handed Jones the gift. He thanked her in his usual polite manner. She bid him farewell and left the clinic. 

 

“ _ Why are all these reassurances making me feel  _ worse _?”  _ She thought, a vague sense of panic rising in her throat. She shook herself and quickened her step, proceeding Eastward toward the shopping district. 

 

She stopped in quickly at Illuminata’s flower shop, dodging another befuddling conversation thanks to the obliviousness of Amber and thick-headedness of Illuminata. Next was the Grocer’s. Frey hurried toward the shop, not quite able to stop the wheels from turning in her head. 

 

“Get Lost!” 

 

“I don’t have time for you!”

 

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

 

“Just leave me alone!” 

 

With a pang, Frey realized she was clenching her jaw hard enough to ache as Dylas’ shouting replayed in her mind again. 

 

“It’s a fond memory now…” 

 

“We look back on them and laugh…” 

 

“You have plenty of arguments ahead of you.” 

 

This wasn’t like arguing over a disagreement, though… He’d  _ rejected _ her. How could one possibly look back fondly on that? She shook her head again as if trying to shake the thoughts out as she tugged open the door to the Grocery. 

 

Numbly, she approached the counter where Granny Blossom was tending her shop. 

 

“Hi, Blossom,” She said faintly, giving a perfunctory effort to sound cheerful. What was the point of it, though? Apparently everyone either already knew what had happened or could see right through her regardless. “I brought some homemade risotto for you and Doug.” 

 

“Oh, thank you so much, dear! Such a sweet—Oh my, are you alright, Frey? You look upset.” 

 

“I kinda got in a fight…” Frey mumbled, fidgeting with the wrapping around the dish she’d prepared.

 

”Ah, well that will happen a lot when you’re young. Don’t let it bother you.” The old woman said, chuckling.

 

”Did you and your husband get into arguments when you were young too?” Frey asked, wondering if Blossom’s late husband had ever told her he ‘didn’t have time for her’.

 

”Oh of course! Lots of times. But if you truly care for each other, it’s easy to put those things behind you. So argue with him, over and over. And then, bury the hatchet, over and over.”

 

“ _ If you truly love each other, it’s easy to put those things behind you.”  _ Frey thought, heart sinking. 

 

“Thanks Blossom.” She said in a low, weak voice. She fumbled a flicker of a smile and the old woman patted her hand with a tender expression. 

 

“Would you like to take that upstairs to the kitchen and show Doug? I’m sure he’ll be very excited you made this for us.” She said. Frey clung to the offer like driftwood in the ocean. 

 

“Yeah. Thanks.” She said, and turned to climb the stairs into the apartment above the shop. When she got to the top, Doug turned in his seat where he’d been chopping vegetables for Blossom.

 

”What’s wrong, Frey? You don’t look too good.” He asked immediately.

 

”Oh, well I…” She began, holding out hope that the typically air-headed young dwarf might be led off the trail so she wouldn’t have to suffer another of these conversations. 

 

”Don’t tell me. It’s Dylas.” He said suddenly, face cringing sadly.

 

”Huh?” Frey blinked, surprised at him, and blushed.

 

”Knew it.” He said, shaking his head and looking sadly down at the carrots he was chopping. “That dumb nag seriously has oats for brains.” He sighed and mumbled something she couldn’t hear. 

 

”What was that?”

 

”Oh, uh, Nothing! Nothing.” He replied evasively. 

 

She stared at him, surprised and curious at his forlorn reaction.

 

”Anyway, cheer up! It’ll all work out in the end.” He said, forcing a smile she could easily see through. She nodded mutely and then produced the dish. 

 

“What’s this?” He said, perking up.

 

“Risotto.” She said simply.

 

“Aw yes!” He said excitedly as he took the dish, his enthusiasm completely genuine. Frey managed a real smile this time, buoyed a little by the joy on the young man’s face. 

 

“Thanks, Frey. You’re the best.” 

 

“You’re welcome.” She said simply, and turned to go. She waved goodbye to Blossom on the way out and began walking slowly back to the residential district.

 

“…Fight over and over… Bury the hatchet over and over…” Blossom’s words replayed in her mind, crowding the inside of her head alongside the rest of the advice and reassurance she’d been bombarded with today. 

 

“You’ve got plenty of arguments ahead of you.”

 

“ _ Again and again? Like that?”  _ She thought, wincing.

 

“It’s a fond memory now. We even look back on some of them and laugh.”

 

“ _ Am I even capable of looking back on this fondly? _ ”

 

“If you truly love each other, it’s easy to put these things behind you.” 

 

“ _ If I can’t… what does that mean?”  _ Her breathing quickened along with her steps, jaw clenching again as she paced mindlessly across the paving stones. 

 

“Oh no! Did you dump him?” 

 

“ _ Would I be to blame if I had? After what he said… everyone is angry with him but they all think I should make up with him just like that. Do they know what he said? The look on his face…” _

 

“No-one should talk to you that way, ever… especially not your lover.” 

 

Frey stopped in place, breath vanishing from her chest. She blinked rapidly, eyes burning. Suddenly she returned her attention to her surroundings and realized the big iron-handled door to the ‘Meanderer’ was right in front of her. She swallowed around the lump in her throat and pushed open the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you ever felt that panic rising up as you watch people respond to the front you’re putting on to hide your feelings? Frey’s inner anxiety and panic in this scene make my heart ache. There’s something inside that needs to be understood. When the people around you miss that, it’s so isolating and scary. Gosh I really felt for her when I was playing the game during this event. I hope you enjoy reading this chapter. Even though it’s largely in-game dialogue and scenes, I think the extra context makes a powerful moment out of it. Let me know what you think of the chapter and what you think is coming next~


	4. The Madman

The familiar chime of the shop bell was followed by an even more familiar sound:

 

“Wel-come!” Bado’s deep basso voice all but sang. She clutched that sound to her chest, a warm reassurance at last soothing her pulse back down to a reasonable rate. She walked into the shop, eyes searching for the person who’d seen and heard the reason for her turmoil. The one person who really knew what had happened. 

 

“Heya, Frey.” He said warmly, setting down the tattered little notepad he was often scribbling on when she found him sitting behind the counter. His blue-gray eyes combed over her, pausing on her face for a few beats. She saw understanding flicker in them. Then he put on a smile for her. It was an encouraging one, but unlike the rest of the townsfolk, Bado’s smile actually  _ did  _ encourage her in this moment. 

 

“How are you doing today?” He asked, voice gentle. She could hear in his tone that he knew very well she was a mess inside. 

 

“Oh, I’ve been better.” She replied shakily with an exasperated little huff of air that could have been a sigh or a laugh. It was hard to say, just now. 

 

“Yeah…” He nodded, eyes lingering on hers again. “I don’t blame ya.”

 

“Everyone knows…” She said, suddenly unable to stop herself from confiding in this man. “Or at least, they sure think they do.” 

 

Bado chuckled, looking off to the side for a moment and running a big, angular hand through his dark ruffled hair. 

 

“Yeah. People always do, don’t they?” He said, giving her a little half-smile. “An’ I bet they’re full of advice, too, eh?” 

 

“Yes!” She blurted out, exasperated. “It’s easy for  _ them _ to say ‘just put it behind you’. ‘Just laugh about it later’…” She stopped herself, hearing how childish her indignant tone sounded. Bado looked at her, concern in his lined face as his dark brows bent over those searching eyes. 

 

“Frey…” He said, voice careful. She looked up at him, feeling lost. “Go ahead.” He said, tipping his head up slightly in invitation. She blinked at him, confused.

 

“Go ahead?” She echoed. He nodded, staring into her eyes. 

 

“Go ahead and say everything you wanna say. I’ll listen.”

 

She gaped at him, too shocked to form words. He held up a finger, then wordlessly paced to the front door. He pulled the open windows shut, flipped the ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed’, and bolted the door.

 

“There.” He said with a nod. “Ain’t nobody gonna overhear this time. You can let anythin’ you want out.”

 

Frey stared at the big man standing there, looking patiently at her. She drew in a shaking breath. 

 

“I…” She squeaked, breath stopping short. All the pressure that had been building in her, all the carefully smothered reactions, all the tangle of confused emotion surging up out of the depths of her at once. She felt her face contort into an anguished expression full of pain and rage. 

 

“I… CAN’T BELIEVE HIM!” She gasped. “How could he treat me like that? And how am I supposed to just make this right?” The words came fast and breathless, loosed from inside her by the plain invitation he’d given. Bado winced, face mirroring her pain just a little.  He nodded slightly and rolled his wrist at her. ‘Keep going.’ It seemed to say.

 

“And everyone is so sure it’s his fault but they are also so sure we’ll make up! No one’s even asked—” She choked. Her eyes filled with tears and they spilled over and down her cheeks. “No one’s even asked…” She gasped, “If I  _ want _ to!” She plunged her face into her hands and sobbed, too caught up to even feel embarrassed his time. All of this emotion had been trying to claw its way out of her since she’d stepped out her door this morning. There was no way to stop the flow now. 

 

The big blacksmith sighed sadly and stepped close. His rough hands rested gently, tentatively on her shoulders, and when she didn’t pull away, he ushered her to the bench and table in the workshop. She sat down and waited there, head bowed. Tears falling regularly from her eyes onto her hands in her lap, sniffling. 

 

She could hear heavy footsteps going to and fro behind her. Bado sat carefully on the bench next to her, his body angled toward her, and set a cup of hot tea and a little stack of worn but clean handkerchiefs on the table before her. She took one and blew her nose, then grabbed a second and dabbed at her eyes. 

 

“I was already planning on trying to work it out with him…” She said thickly, her voice changed by her now-stuffy nose. “But the fact everyone  _ expects _ me to, without actually knowing what happened…” She looked up at her unexpected confidant, eyes still spilling tears. “It feels like I have no choice.” 

 

A fresh wave of concern passed through Bado’s fretful expression. His right hand twitched and he made an odd gesture, hesitating briefly before finally moving. His big hand closed on her shoulder, firm this time. He looked into her eyes as he spoke, his voice earnest, almost desperate. 

 

“You _always_ have a choice, Frey.” He shook his head faintly. “Especially with this sorta thing. You don’t have to explain yourself to anyone. They ain’t livin’ your life. They don’t get to make this kind of choice for you.” 

 

She gazed at him, drinking in the words, realizing this is what had been missing. This was why every bit of encouragement and reassurance had stabbed at her heart since she set foot on her walk around town earlier. Alone in her own mind, she hadn’t lacked for sympathy from others; everyone in town was chagrined to hear she’d been hurt. But no one had waited long enough to give their advice to allow her own will a gasp of breath. 

 

“I… don’t know what to do.” She whispered, still staring into those blue-gray eyes and grasping for something to hold onto. He squeezed her shoulder. 

 

“You’ve got time, missy.” He said, giving another half-smile, “You don’t gotta know everything already.” She sighed out some of the tension in her and looked gratefully at him, unable to find words yet.  He squeezed her shoulder again and waited while she sniffled and wiped her eyes again and again, the tears refusing to slow. He slid the cup of tea across the table toward her and she took it and sipped gingerly at the hot liquid. It soothed her enough that she could slow down her frantic breaths and relax a little. 

 

“That’s it…” The big man sitting beside her murmured, voice warm. Finally, she turned to him. 

 

“What do  _ you _ think I should do?” She asked earnestly. 

 

“Me?” He said, surprised. “The hell do I know?” He laughed a little, and the sense of some mixture of emotion she couldn’t quite identify echoed in her ears as she heard it. She smiled at him.

 

“More than most, it would seem.” She replied, “You’re the only one who’s really listened to me, so far.” He glanced at her and fidgeted in place. 

 

“Least I could do…” He mumbled, looking down at  his hands. She stared at him, blinking calmly now. He looked up at her and seemed to realize she was still waiting for his answer. 

 

“I… really ain’t the guy to be asking for love advice.” He said, voice an anxious sigh, “But I do wanna help ya.” He added, scratching at his hair in a nervous gesture. Finally, he sighed and looked at her with an air of surrender. “I just want ya t’be happy, Frey. If you want to try an’ work it out with Dylas…” He cringed ever so slightly as he said this, “Then do that.” He took a deep breath as if steeling himself, “But if you’re askin’ my honest opinion…” He stared levelly at her and she returned his gaze, waiting. “I think he ain’t good enough for you.” He said in a serious tone, watching her for her reaction. She blinked at him, curious. 

 

Without a reply, he seemed to feel obliged to explain himself. 

 

“You’re special, Frey.” He said, glancing away and fidgeting with the corner of one of the handkerchiefs still on the table as he spoke, “Your fella should know that, so he should know better than to treat ya like that little—” He stopped short, glanced at her, and cleared his throat. “Like  _ Dylas _ did yesterday.” He finished in careful tones. A smirk tugged at the corner of Frey’s mouth. A sense of warmth spread from within her. She knew this odd man well enough to know he wasn’t capable of lying to someone’s face, despite that he may wish to on occasion for the sake of one of his schemes. He wasn’t just blowing smoke or telling her what she wanted to hear. He really thought well of her. She let the smirk become a smile, but disguised it behind her cup as she took another sip of tea. The way he’d stopped short, though… she idly wondered what Bado had been about to call her boyfriend before he’d caught himself.

 

It really was reassuring to hear these things. Sure, she was still going to try and work it out with her lover eventually, but being told she could take her time and think about what  _ she _ wanted had calmed her spirits at last. She’d needed this: the genuine compassion of someone who was actually paying attention.

 

“Thanks.” She said, finally. Smiling obliquely at him as she sipped at her tea again. “I’m feeling a bit better now.” Bado smiled in return, the smile lines cutting deep into his bearded face as he looked back at her. 

 

“Any time, missy.” He replied quietly. Then, a glint of mischief entered his expression and he adjusted his posture to an exaggerated attitude that said he was up to something. She bent an eyebrow at him, a wry smile tugging even harder at her lips. 

 

“What?” She demanded, “What are you scheming?” 

 

“I was just thinkin’…” He said offhandedly, “What with the whole town riled up like this, maybe I ought to sell a special ‘Dylas Punishment Kit.’ I think it could be a hot item, don’t you?” He smirked and raised his eyebrows expectantly at her.

 

Frey threw her head back and laughed aloud, the first joyful sound to come from her since she’d set foot in the workshop the day before, looking to get the attention of her surly boyfriend. 

 

“You’re a madman.” She said, wiping her eyes once more as she finished her laugh. He grinned broadly at her. 

 

“I ain’t gonna bother to deny that.” 

 

“But, yeah. You’re probably right.” She added with another smirk, “Everyone’s pretty pissed at him at the moment.” 

 

“I sympathize…” He growled, expression flickering darkly for a moment. 

 

Frey shook her head. 

 

“You know he doesn't mean anything by it.” She sighed. “Everyone knows he’s a clumsy horse’s ass when he’s ruffled.” 

 

“Well sure,” Bado agreed, “But that don’t undo what he did. Ya can’t un-kill somebody just cause ya didn’t mean to.”

 

“Well that got dark in a hurry.” Frey said, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Sorry.” He muttered, “Old knight talk comin’ back.” He shifted uncomfortably. 

 

“It’s alright.” She said immediately sorry to have ruffled his very open mood. “It’s a true enough sentiment, anyway.” They sat in silence for a time. She felt reluctant to leave. Just yesterday she’d fallen apart in this room. Now it seemed like a sanctuary. She just sat and sipped at the tea as it cooled.  

 

Finally he spoke again, carefully, as if he wasn’t sure he should but couldn’t help himself, regardless. 

 

“So, uh… d’ya know what you wanna do… in the short-term, I mean?” 

 

Frey shrugged.

 

“Just give him space for now, I guess. You saw how well coming after him worked yesterday.” She said darkly. Then added: “If he comes around on his own, then maybe we can figure it out.” Frey felt the blacksmith’s eyes on her as a long silence stretched between them. Eventually he sighed quietly. 

 

“I said it before and I’ll say it again: Just take care of yourself, Frey.” 

 

That warm glow of gratitude flared to life inside her again. She pushed the now empty cup away from her and turned on the bench. Bado mirrored her movement, looking curiously at her, his blue-gray eyes flicking over her person as he waited to see what she wanted. She leaned forward and wrapped her slender arms around the big man’s shoulders, trying her best to show him her genuine feelings of gratitude for the way he’d helped her out of the near-panic she’d been spiraling toward.  He startled slightly, freezing as she embraced him.

 

“Thanks for everything today, Bado.” She said quietly. After a breath or two, she felt a tentative hand, warm and wide-palmed, touch her back and return the hug very lightly. 

 

“Sure, uh… Sure thing, Frey.” He said, fumbling his words. She squeezed him in reply. 

 

“Well, I’d better get home, I guess.” She said as she released him. She looked into the blacksmith’s eyes once more and found them searching her emerald-colored ones intently for… something. She blushed at the intensity of his gaze and he blinked and looked away, his pointed ears turning red.

 

“Have a good one, Frey. Take it easy, alright?” He said, glancing back at her with a half-smile. That searching look from a moment ago had vanished. He seemed just as he usually was: a silly, carefree goofball. 

 

“Sure.” She replied, smiling at him as she turned to go. “Oh!” She chirped suddenly. “I almost forgot!” 

 

Bado looked curiously at her as she dug in her basket, momentarily forgotten on the workbench behind her as she’d sat and spoke with him. From within she produced a handkerchief—the one he’d handed her the day before when she’d come unraveled in the middle of his workshop following Dylas’ sudden departure. Now it was freshly washed and dried and wrapped around a portion of four carefully shaped onigiri. She pressed it into his big hands and smiled warmly at him. 

 

“Thanks again.” She said, and turned to go, leaving the big dwarven man staring after her, homemade treats nestled in his wide palms . 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you ever been part of a toxic relationship before? Ever had a loved one delicately phrase their dislike of the way that person talks to you, knowing you’re too far in to really listen? Poor Bado, having to walk that tightrope. Truly his advice to her would be to dump Dylas immediately, but he knows she is too sweet, too sensitive to be on board with hurting the guy if she can help it. 
> 
> If you have played Dylas’ romance route int he game, you already know what’s coming. But I think it should still be very interesting, given Frey’s reservations and Bado’s perspective, also.


	5. The Ransom

Frey slept soundly this time. Sure, she was still upset with Dylas and troubled that their relationship was all twisted up at the moment, but after her visit with Bado her mind had finally quieted for a time. She’d found herself _exhausted_ as she flopped onto her bed. Who would have guessed that the mere emotional weight of the conflict would wear her out as if it were the first day of fieldwork after a typhoon. The big hooligan may have a thoroughly twisted sense of humor—Dylas punishment kits! What on earth was rattling around between his pointed ears?—but he’d made it very clear that he _cared_ about her and her situation.

 

The town charlatan… The point-eared conman… The laziest man in Selphia…

 

…The one who _listened_ to her. More than just her words or even what she chose to do, he had read the whole of it and known her troubled heart before she did. Gratitude welled up inside her. Smiling, she promised him silently in her mind to help with his next mischievous plot, no matter how stupid or crazy the idea.

 

Frey, princess of Selphia, curled herself about the warmth she felt for her unlikely friend as she let sleep pull her into its shrouded arms. She held the dwarven blacksmith’s concern for her like a talisman warding off the storm of feelings that had so unraveled her the past day and a half. And she slept. Peaceful, comfortable, restful.

 

When she woke the following morning, her eyes fluttered open and the sense of peace persisted. She sighed, a very slight smile on her lips.

 

_“You’ve got time, missy. You don’t gotta know everything already_.”

 

She didn’t have to try right now to unravel this stupid riddle, missing all the most relevant information thanks to her boyfriend’s refusal to explain himself. She could wait and think on it. Let Dylas sulk around town by himself, scowling at everything. Whenever his foul mood had finally fully expended itself, he knew where to find her. She didn’t have to chase him. She didn’t have to get burned again that way.

 

Frey stretched as she sat up in her luxurious double bed. Yes, being princess of this odd town made for a lot of manual labor on the farmlands behind the castle, but it also came with some pretty nice perks.

 

She groomed herself and dressed at a leisurely pace. Even from inside the tall stone walls of the magnificent castle of the Divine Wind, she could hear the sound of rain outside. No need to water crops. No need to shepherd monsters in and out of the barns. It would be a relatively light day thanks to the weather. Silently she thanked the gods that had given her this break.

 

She ate her breakfast slowly, enjoying the quiet as Clorica nodded off in the seat across from her. Somehow the lady butler still managed the repairs she was applying to one of Vishnal’s uniforms. How she was able to sew with her eyes shut and her mind fully lost to a dream Frey could not even begin to guess.

 

After breakfast she stopped by in the Great Dragon Hall to greet one of the strangest of her friends: The divine dragon, herself.

 

“Morning, Venti.” She called. The huge serpentine head swiveled around, stirring her colorful plumage.

 

“Good morning, Frey. What’s been troubling you lately?” She asked serenely. Frey scoffed.

 

“You expect me to believe you don’t know already? _Everyone_ knows.”

 

“Ah, well… yes.” The dragon admitted. “Have you been unable to resolve things with Dylas yet?” Frey shook her head.

 

“He refused to talk to me when I went to him before. I’m just waiting for him to cool off and come find me.”

 

“Be patient with him.” Venti said earnestly, “He means well.”

 

“Yeah, I know…” Frey said, some of the heaviness from before returning to weigh her down from inside. Venti wouldn’t understand. Her idea of Dylas was already too set in stone. Dylas had given his life for Venti, literally. The whole purpose of his sacrifice as guardian had been to prolong the dragon god’s time on this Earth. Now the rune spheres were performing that role admirably, but the dragon had not forgotten what he’d been willing to give. She considered him among her dearest friends. Frey was too, of course, but Venti would only want the two of them to reconcile. She wouldn’t be able to sympathize with her pain while she still had that rosy impression of Dylas stuck in her big reptilian head. Frey decided the only safe thing was to change the subject.

 

“How have you been feeling lately? Is your energy alright?” She asked, looking up into Venti’s dark, glassy eyes.

 

“Yes. I still feel my age, but… I suppose every creature does eventually.”

 

“Good.” As long as she wasn’t in danger of withering anymore. “Well, have a good day, Venti. I’ll come see you later, okay?”

 

“Take care, Frey.” The dragon said gently.

 

She walked back to her room and sat on the edge of her bed, trying to reclaim the calm she’d awoken with. It worked… a little.

 

Finally, thinking it was as good a time as any to stock up on ingredients from the grocery, Frey picked up a monster-hide rucksack and slung it over her shoulders. She whipped her cloak about her overtop the bag and flipped the hood up over her head. It was time to find out if her crafting skill had managed to imbue the garment with the water resistance she’d been trying for. She stepped out of the southeast door to the castle and flinched as she almost collided with—

 

“There you are.” Dylas said suddenly. He looked miserable, eyes haunted, his fluffy ears, long tail, and flowing mane all hanging limp and sodden in the rain.

 

“Dylas.” She breathed, looking uncertainly at him. Tension lined her every fiber as if she were bracing for a blow. ‘ _Stop it. You’re lovers, damnit. He’s come to talk so stop cowering and listen.’_ She chastised herself. Dylas drew in a big breath. Frey leaned backward in spite of herself, almost wincing.

 

“I’m sorry! Honest!” The once-guardian blurted out.

 

“Wha—” Frey gasped, surprise stealing her brain for a moment.

 

“I heard… From everyone.” He said, cringing as he looked at her. “They told me how hurt you were. I… I was dumb.” He said firmly.

 

Frey stared at him, saying nothing, curious what else he would say if she waited to give a reply. She blinked at him, her green eyes locked with his gold ones, searching. Was it normal to look into your lover’s eyes and wonder what on earth was going on in that head? Shouldn’t they understand one another better by now?

 

Dylas took another steadying breath, mustered himself, and continued: “I thought about you and what I did the other night…” He began, shuffling uncomfortably,  “and I realized all I ever do is hurt you.” He said, squirming. “I don’t mean to. It’s just… these feelings… this relationship… None of it is stuff I’ve done before. I… don’t know what to do. It’s… It’s…” he floundered, gesturing in exasperation, “ARGH! Damnit! I can’t put it into words right!” Frey blinked at his outburst. After all of that, he was still the same old Dylas, unequal to the task of simply expressing his feelings in words without rousing his anger, too.

 

“A-anyway, um… if you decide to forgive me… will you come to the front of the castle tomorrow?” He hurried to add.

 

“I…” Frey began uncertainly, trying to form words, herself. Forgive him? She still had no idea _why_ he had railed at her like that in the first place. Apologizing was good, of course, but he hadn’t said a single word about his reasons. She wasn’t ready to forgive him yet, especially without _some_ kind of explanation. She shook her head. “Dylas, hold on. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I mean, did you have some kind of reason for doing what you did?”

 

”Uh… I-I’ll tell you tomorrow.” He said, eyes darting everywhere but her eyes. “And if you still don’t feel like forgiving me by tomorrow, it can be later. It can be the day after tomorrow, it can be next week, in 10 years, 100 years! I’ll wait. … And I’ll keep waiting, in front of the castle… until you decide to forgive me.”

 

“Could you just—” She began, but he’d already turned and fled, tail between his legs. There she stood, hand outstretched as he disappeared around the corner toward Porcoline’s restaurant. She let the hand fall to her side and sighed, the sound muffled by the rain.

 

Again, he’d ignored her words, ignored her wishes. He’d smothered her voice with his, insisting and assuming… _still_ refusing to actually tell her what was going on. But he also wanted forgiveness first? And he was going to come back tomorrow and the next day and the next day… until she did what _he_ wanted her to. Frey felt her heart sinking further.

 

Did he think it was _romantic_ to ransom himself against her forgiveness, to pressure her compliance to the way _he_ thought things should unfold? Why should she forgive him just like that? Everyone in town expected her to… Hell, clearly Dylas did, too. He’d taken it for granted that she would, eventually. She sighed again. ‘ _I suppose I’ll_ have _to, anyway… that or everyone in town is going to wonder why Dylas is standing in front of my door like a lost puppy from now until eternity.’_ She drooped in place, posture collapsing

 

But, there was _one_ person who wasn’t assuming she would meekly comply…

 

Frey looked up, her body turning automatically toward the residential district. Her feet moved her eagerly back to the place she’d found comfort, and the person who’d given it to her. The rain grew louder around her even as the intensity of her churning thoughts accelerated.

 

‘ _He’s trying to make it right. This is what you wanted.’_ Her mouth was a thin, tight slash across her face, ‘ _You keep insisting you love him, so why can’t you act like it?’_ She didn’t want to forgive him. She didn’t want him standing pathetically outside the castle every morning waiting for her. ‘ _You know how he is. He feels terrible. Just let him give you his apology, even if it’s clumsy.’_

 

“No…” She growled under her breath. She had a choice. She had to believe she did. Eventually she would go to him and let Dylas do his best to make it up to her. She knew she would. But right now, her better judgement could take a hike. She didn’t _have_ to just do what he said as soon as he said it. She could make him wait. She could leave…

 

She stopped walking, frozen, looking down at her shoes as she felt the rain patter onto her cloak.

 

“ _Is this who I am? Thinking of bailing out at the first sign of trouble? Nancy, Jones, Lin Fa, and Blossom all said they fought with their partners… why am I considering leaving him already?”_

 

Dylas had come to her to apologize. He was doing his best. He wanted to make it right. But, the truth of all that couldn’t overturn her simmering anger. She wanted to scream at him just to see his startled face, just to show him she was _real_ . A real live woman with her own thoughts and feelings and choices. Ever since the fight it was as if he couldn’t even see her; as if he were only seeing what he _thought_ she was.

 

She sighed, drooping in the rain.

 

“I’m so mixed up…” She mumbled to herself, “Are my feelings justified? Or am I just being an unforgiving jerk?”

 

“You’re special, Frey. Your fella should know that, so he should know better than to treat you that way. _”_

 

Bado’s words came back to her, as they’d done so many times over the past few days. She raised her head, looking down the rain-soaked road before her, and let her feet carry her back to him.

 

* * * * *

 

Bado sighed, staring without seeing as he moved things around on the shelves in his odd little shop. This mindless work kept his hands busy but it couldn’t banish the thoughts, the worries.

 

He’d seen what Dylas was making at his workbench. His stomach twisted as he remembered. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Why was it the things that troubled him the most were also the things he couldn’t do a thing about?

 

It really wasn’t any of his business, anyway. Only, she’d come and made it his business: asking for his advice, crying on his shoulder. There was no way to let go and just let it unfold when every step of the way he found himself catching her as she fell.

 

The big man made a frustrated sound in his throat. If Frey wanted what Dylas was looking to give her, there was nothing he could do to stop it. It was her choice in the end. He sighed.

 

“ _Since when do I get so wrapped up in other people’s problems?”_

 

It wasn’t just anyone though. It was _her_. He winced, thinking once more of what was coming.

 

“ _I can’t do anything if you say yes, Frey. I just wanna protect you, but I can’t do that if it means taking away your freedom to decide these things for yourself, either.”_ The knot rose up in his throat again, refusing to be cowed. He clenched his fists at his sides and turned his head as if holding himself back from punching someone. “ _I’m always powerless to help when it comes to the really important things.”_

 

The broad shoulders of Selphia’s blacksmith drooped as he let his hands open and hang limp at his sides now.

 

_“Please take care of yourself, Frey… I need you to be alright.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Thanks for your patience, as always. I wrote a big block of about six chapters because I had such good momentum going and I wanted to handle a certain sequence of events together while it was all very fresh in my mind. I hope you enjoy this chapter as it sets the stage for some very interesting moments to follow!


	6. The Confidant

Frey stopped before the heavy oak door to the ‘Meanderer’ with its iron handle, panting in the rain. Her cloak had kept her somewhat dry beneath it, but it had grown heavy with the water that had soaked into the material. ‘S _ o much for water resistance.’  _ She thought as she pushed the door open. 

 

“Ah, Frey. Good t’see ya.” Came Bado’s deep voice as she stepped inside and pulled back her hood. 

 

“Hi!” She said breathlessly, smiling at him. He gave a crooked, half smile back, a little color flushing his pointed ears. 

 

She peeled off the cloak, struggling with the sodden material enough for the big blacksmith to notice. “What’s goin’ on with your coat, there?” He asked. 

 

“Oh, I botched the crafting, I think. I was trying to make it water resistant, but it soaked up the rain like a sponge.” Bado reached out a big hand toward her expectantly. Frey hesitated a moment, looking curiously at him, before she placed the cloak in his hand. She  wondered briefly what he knew of this type of crafting before she recalled having ordered her own crafting table from the man himself. He’d built her forge, too. He wasn’t just a shopkeeper or even just a blacksmith. This lazy conman could make just about anything. 

 

“Hmm…” He rubbed his thumbs over the material then held a bit of it up between two hands and snapped it taught between them once or twice. “I think we can improve the thing without having to go back to square one.” He mused, tugging the point of his short beard. “Best case is to start with the fiber itself and spin yarn but it’d be a lot of work, and you know how I feel about that.” He gave her that crooked smile again. She grinned back at him. “Anyway,” he continued, shaking off her gaze with another blush of his pointed ears. “Ya got any of that substance X goo that comes outta failed medicine recipes sometimes?” He asked. She nodded.

 

“Yeah, I’ve definitely failed my share of those into existence. Heh.” She fidgeted, embarrassed. 

 

“Good.” He said. “That junk is super useful.” She blinked at him, confused. He smiled again.

 

“For instance, you can mix it with sweet powder to make a liquid we can soak this material in that’ll make it shed water like a duck’s backside.” He said, holding up her cloak. 

 

“Whoa, really?” She returned, blinking.

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“Huh. I’d have never guessed.” They lapsed into silence for an awkward beat or three. “If I were to… I dunno, bring some of that stuff over here… d’you think maybe we could…” She trailed off, twisting a bit of her long, pale green hair around her fingertips. The big man blinked at her twice before hurrying to answer: 

 

“—Yeah. Yeah, for sure. I’d be happy t’show ya how.” He nodded energetically. She smirked. ‘ _ Why is he so eager to help me with this? Not that I’m complaining. It’s just… kinda  _ cute _.’  _ Perhaps he was just looking to help her out in light of the  rough time she’d been having this week. The thought brought her conversation with Dylas from earlier back to her mind. 

 

Bado must have seen her expression fall. His expression mirrored her concern and he tilted his head slightly, staring into her eyes with those gray-blue dwarf’s irises glinting reflectively. There he was again, noticing her thoughts changing inside her, seeing her in a way no one else seemed to be able to. He set the cloak down on the counter beside him, looking only at her face.

 

“Frey?” He called quietly, “What’s wrong? What happened?” His right hand moved, barely lifting out of position at his side as if he meant to reach for her, but he froze in place, only plying her with that worried gaze. 

 

Her eyes widened.

 

“I… Sorry,” She dropped her gaze, blushing as she wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly embarrassed. “I just keep bringing this to you. It’s not your problem.” Bado took a step toward her, eyes hard.

 

“What happened, Frey?” He repeated, “Did he hurt you?” She looked back up, eyes wide. The big, burly man stood there, hands clenched into fists, jaw set, expression dark. 

 

“N-no.” She all but whispered, “No, nothing like that.” The tension eased out of her friend’s stance and he stared at her expectantly, cautious but curious. 

 

“That’s a relief.” He said, voice just barely edged with a growl, “But something must’ve happened. You’re all twisted up again, aren’t you?” She stared at him, searching.

 

“How’d you know? That I was troubled, I mean.” 

 

He blinked at her, bending an eyebrow as if he did not know how she could even ask that question. 

 

“How could I  _ not _ ?” He returned, looking her up and down, “You just wilted before my eyes.” 

 

“R-right.” She said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. 

 

“Would you… rather  _ not _ talk about it?” He ventured. Frey shook her head. 

 

“No. No, actually I sorta came here because of it.” She admitted, “You’ve just been… really kind to me throughout this mess. I guess I kinda just feel safe here with you, or something…” She finished, shrugging lamely. 

 

Bado stared at her, opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again without a word. They looked at each other a long moment. She waited, wondering if she’d sounded foolish.

 

“I’m glad.” He said finally, voice quiet. “Not glad you’ve had it so rough lately, mind.” He added in a hurry, “But glad you feel you can trust me with this. I’ll always be here to lend an ear, Frey.”

 

She smiled gratefully at him and nodded shyly, heart fluttering in her chest. The blacksmith’s words to her of late had been simple, forthright, and earnest. He wasn’t some genius of understanding people and their relationships. He just paid attention. She silently wished her boyfriend were half as attentive and one tenth as compassionate. 

 

“C’mon.” He said, waving her over to his work table by the forge. “I’ll make you some tea and we can sit and talk.” She followed with a blush and seated herself on the bench. He filled a simple kettle with water and placed it inside the forge using a thick fireproof glove, leaving the hatch open so he could listen for the whistle. 

 

“So,” He began as he threw a leg over the bench and sat down, facing her. “You two talked, I take it?” 

 

“Yeah…” She replied, sighing, “But mostly  _ he _ talked.” Bado grunted quietly, brows furrowing. “He came to apologize.” She continued, “He feels terrible. Says all he ever does is hurt me and he doesn’t know why. He wouldn’t tell me what all that was about the other night.” The blacksmith’s expression grew both darker and more worried. 

 

“And?” He said expectantly. 

 

“And, he said he would wait in front of the castle forever until I decide to forgive him.” She sighed, looking fretfully up at her friend. His mouth became a thin line. “But how am I supposed to forgive what he did when I have no idea why he did it? He said he’d tell me after I forgive him and meet him in front of the castle. So, I guess I’m just supposed to let it go and trust there’s some good explanation?” She shrugged.

 

“Hmm…” Bado rumbled. 

 

“Once again he’s just assuming—like everyone else—that I’ll come around and do what he expects.” She said, voice growing harsh. “He’s holding himself hostage in front of the castle until I forgive him. Doesn’t that mean he’s never going to take ‘no’ for an answer?” 

 

“Do you want to tell him ‘no’?” Bado asked carefully. 

 

“Kinda!” She retorted, indignant, “But maybe I’m just being obstinate because I feel like I don’t have a choice again. He can’t just  _ talk  _ to me and  _ listen _ to what  _ I’m _ feeling. He has to hear it from half the town to figure out I’m upset and then he’s got to  _ pressure  _ me into letting it go because he feels guilty?” Her gestures became faster and more dramatic the more she spoke. “He didn’t  _ ask _ if I’d forgive him. He didn’t  _ ask _ what I thought about any of it! He just ran off, promising he’ll  _ wait forever _ as if that is supposed to make it better. I don’t  _ want _ him to  _ wait forever,  _ I want him to  _ listen to me!”  _ She finished, breathing hard. 

 

Bado looked at her, concerned, as he drew in a long breath and sighed it out again. She just kept going.     

 

“I just feel like I’m getting swept along. When do I get to decide what’s happening with us? Why is it  _ he _ can tell me to ‘get lost’ when he doesn’t want to see me, then put himself in front of me when  _ he _ feels like it and then I’m supposed to meet him where and when  _ he _ wants and forgive him?”

 

“You don’t have to go along with any of it, Frey.” Bado replied, voice troubled. 

 

“Don’t I, though?” She asked, lifting a hand palm-up in a helpless gesture of frustration, “I can’t just leave him out there forever.”

 

“You  _ could _ .” He returned, folding his arms with an unsympathetic scowl. “If he stays out there it’s because he decided to. You didn’t ask him to do this stunt.” She sighed.

 

“It’d only drive me crazy. I’d never be able to stop thinking about it if he just stood out there every morning waiting for me.” She let her hand flop to the table dejectedly, “That’s what sucks. He  _ knows _ what I’ll do sooner or later. I could do the opposite just to spite him but that won’t make me feel any better either.” 

 

They sat in silence while she stared down at the wood grain of the bench between them, chewing her lip. Perhaps two or three minutes passed. She couldn’t say. Time got funny when you were stuck up in your own head. Finally, Bado spoke, his words carefully weighed. 

 

“Frey,” He began, waiting until she looked up at him. His blue gray eyes searched her green ones, disquieted. “It ain’t really my place to say, but I feel like I gotta, anyhow: I  _ really _ don’t like this. I ain’t actually ever been in a real long-term relationship with a woman. I was always a more casual kind of partner, back in the day. But, even if I ain’t ever done it before I know  _ this _ ain’t the way it oughta be.” She blinked silently at him, waiting for more. “If you love someone, doesn’t that mean you want to understand that person, too? Dylas seems to dwell a lot on whether  _ you  _ get what’s going on with  _ him.  _ But, I ain’t heard anything about whether he understands  _ you _ .” 

 

“No… he doesn’t.” She murmured. He nodded. “ _ But you sure seem to…” _ the thought came unbidden.

 

“You’re as sweet as they come, Frey.” Bado said without a hint of hesitation, voice bent with concern for her, “Everybody knows it cause you wear it on your sleeves. Like ya said, he  _ knows  _ you’ll go along and do the kindly thing because you always do. But that makes this whole ‘waiting forever’ business… just…” He gestured faintly as he tried to find the words, “…Manipulative, I guess.” She nodded sadly, the weight settling in her heart as she thought about it again. He held out a big, angular hand, gesturing to the whole of her.  “You’re a  _ person _ , Frey… not a wind-up toy a guy can pick up and put down whenever he wants. Ya  _ need _ your agency, especially in this. It always seemed t’me if you’re gonna be partners with somebody you should also be equals, otherwise how could ya ever be happy? So, it  _ can’t  _ always be on his terms. It just ain’t right.”

 

There it was again. The town charlatan, known for scheming and scamming… and the  _ only _ one who talked sense in this whole town lately.

 

Frey wiped at her burning eyes and sniffed. Giving a weak laugh, she looked up at the big man, smiling in a raw, hapless way. 

 

“Thanks, Bado.” She said softly, feeling that warmth and gratitude for the blacksmith once more. Lately talking to him was like finding an oasis in the desert. “I don’t know what I’d do without you in all this. Seems like you get me better than anyone.” He blushed, almost squirming in place.

 

“Aw geez, Frey, I ain’t done anything you wouldn’t’a done for me or just about anyone in this town.” He insisted. “But, I’m sure glad if I can help ya.” He met her eyes again. “You know by now I think you’re pretty special. I’ll keep sayin’ it as long as I need to: I just want ya t’be happy.” 

 

She smiled a sweet, genuine smile for the man, heart feeling full.

 

“Why haven’t you ever been with someone for keeps, Bado? Sure seems like you’d be good at it.” The big man leaned back, turning red. His ears grew particularly flushed and the left one twitched once or twice. 

 

“Heh. Well… I dunno, exactly.” He said, looking away for a beat, fidgeting with his hands. “I don’t mind being single. Kinda like it, I guess. But, there are sure times when I see a love-dovey couple an’ I get t’feelin’ jealous. There’ve been times I just figured I prefer a fling here an’ there. Other times… I guess I was just afraid.” 

 

Frey opened her mouth, about to ask when he’d last been with someone.  Then she clamped it shut again, blushing. How intrusive could a girl be, anyway? She’d come and foisted her every boyfriend-related woe upon the man of late, but that didn’t mean he wanted her prying into his entire romantic history. 

 

Bado eyed her and chuckled. “Out with it, girl. I know ya wanna ask somethin’.” Her face flushed even more red. 

 

“Sorry. I’m not trying to pry.” She mumbled.

 

“S’okay,” he said, waving a hand. “You been sharin’ a lot with me lately; it’d be a little unfair if I refused to do the same. But if you’re lookin’ for somethin’ juicy, you’ll be disappointed. I’m a very boring, very single dwarf, generally speaking.” 

 

Well, since he was insisting…

 

“When  _ was _ the last time you had a lover?” She asked, voice still a little shy. He folded his arms and looked up at the ceiling, sifting through memory. 

 

“Hmm… had to be about ten years ago, I guess. Started up a few months before Forte n’ Kiel’s folks passed away.” He said, face scrunched up as he thought back through the years. Frey blinked, eyes widening. 

 

“Ten years?” She squeaked. He laughed. 

 

“I warned ya. Anyway, that was the last time I had what you’d call a girlfriend. But, what with tryin’ t’look after Forte n’ Kiel after their folks were gone, I kinda let it fall apart with her. She moved away not too long after. Since then it’s just been a very occasional fling or a one-night sorta deal, usually on the rare occasion I’m traveling. It ain’t wise to be too casual with that sorta thing with the people you live near.” He explained with a mischievous smirk. 

 

Frey’s face burned with heat. She must be as red as a tomato by now. She’d been curious, of course, but hadn’t bargained for his very  _ candid _ response. Of course if she were asking about his romantic history she’d inevitably also be asking about his sexual partners, but she hadn’t prepared herself to consider the idea of Bado on a one-night-stand. 

 

“Buuut, it’s been a while since I left town, too.” He continued, blessedly not drawing attention to her red face. “At least a year or two.” Finally he looked back at her and shrugged, “Told ya it wouldn’t be too interesting.” She gulped, blushing as she looked at the man and grappled with the suddenly acute idea of him as a sexual being. 

 

Her eyes quickly combed over him: broad chest and shoulders, chiseled, angular features, short beard pointed at the corners, his great height… Then there was his  _ Physique _ . None of the lean, whipcord muscle of the long, slender Dylas. This man was  _ sturdy _ , thick and broad in every part of him from top to bottom. His form dwelt in the extreme end of the practical masculinity of a tradesman. She swallowed again, feeling like a fever had started up in her blood. Almost as if it were describing the rising heat inside her, the tea kettle in the forge began to whistle, growing rapidly more urgent as the steam started to jet from the spout. Bado stood up to collect it and pour the tea. 

 

“ _ What is going on with me?” _ She thought, somewhat frantically, thankful for the convenient distraction to her interlocutor. “ _ You have a boyfriend, damnit! You can’t be sizing up other men… even if he is very… butch.”  _ Her thought finished in a very  _ satisfied  _ tone. Treachery! She shook her head vigorously while Bado’s back was turned, scolding herself in her mind once more. “

 

“ _ Just keep him talking.”  _ She thought as he returned and set two mismatched mugs on the table before resettling himself on the bench beside her. Frey picked up the warm ceramic mug and breathed in the steam off the top of the drink, hoping to give herself time to shake out the mental images of him her imagination had conjured without her orders. 

 

“Do you want to date someone again?” She ventured, sipping gingerly from the cup. “

 

“I…” He started, but trailed off uncertainly, looking at her with a fretful air, that searching expression returning once more. Finally he looked away. “I dunno… Whether I want it or not, I ain’t ever known how to be a good partner for the long haul. Plus, who’s gonna date a lazy old bag of bones like me, anyway?” He huffed a single breath of bitter laughter. Frey laughed too, but hers was a happier sound. 

 

“You’re being silly.” She said, voice warm as she smiled at him.

 

“Silly?” He returned.

 

“Yeah. You’re great. And you’re not an ‘old bag of bones’. You’re definitely datable, Bado.” 

 

“ _ I would date you… if things were different.”  _ She realized it as the words formed in her thoughts. She liked him. He treated her well and she enjoyed his company. Hell, he was about the only person she wanted to talk to lately. 

 

Bado blinked and stared at her, leaning back as he chewed on her words. 

 

“D’ya really mean that?” He said after a long pause. She nodded energetically. He blushed again, ears turning bright red. “Well, if  _ you _ think so… maybe there’s hope for me, yet.” 

 

“ _ If it can’t be me… I at least want you to have someone you’re happy with… so don’t give up.”  _

 

“Absolutely!” She chimed happily, pleased he had eventually accepted her words. He smiled back at her a little wistfully. Then, as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t, he shook himself and cleared his throat. 

 

“How’d we get to talkin’ about my lack of relationships, anyway? Weren’t we trying to sort through your situation?” 

 

She sighed, looking down into her tea as her mind returned to her current conundrum. 

 

“What’re you gonna do?” He asked, more directly than his tentative comments before. 

 

“I could wait just to make him sweat, but I might as well just go talk to him tomorrow.” She shrugged. “We all know I’m gonna do it. No use pretending otherwise. 

 

Bado sighed through his nose, eyeing her with that same fretful gaze. His left hand moved, confidently this time, and closed around her right resting in a relaxed position on the table’s surface. She looked up at him with wide eyes and blushed as she felt the big, warm hand squeeze her slender, delicate one. Her stomach filled with butterflies and she almost pulled her hand free of his. It was too much, too overwhelming. But, she wanted— _ needed _ to hear what he would say, so she smothered the urge to flee and waited.

 

“Frey…” he began, voice soft but insistent, “ _ Please…  _ no matter what happens tomorrow or what Dylas says or does…  _ please _ do what’s right for  _ you,  _ even if it’s hard… even if it hurts.”

 

Something rang in his tone… this was not just general advice. He was  _ worried _ . What did he think was going to happen?

 

Frey opened her mouth to respond but no words came. This time she was the one to search his eyes. 

 

“Please…” He said again, his deep voice low and soft, almost a whisper. He squeezed her hand again.

 

Bado was begging her… _begging!_ Why? What was it he feared? Her mouth worked but still she couldn’t find words. She just nodded, gazing into his troubled blue-gray eyes, like storm clouds over the ocean, as they pierced her with his concern. He sighed very softly and released her hand. 

 

“Good.” He murmured with a nod. 

 

Confusion and excitement warred in her mind. She couldn’t think. She stood up. 

 

“I s-should probably go…” She mumbled, arms wrapped around herself. “Thanks for today—for caring.” She added, risking another look at his eyes. 

 

“O’course.” He said, that same soft, unguarded tone persisting in his deep voice that hummed inside her chest. Her heart fluttered and a lump rose in her throat. 

 

“Bye” She managed to say, voice raspy as she turned and hurried out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frey is kinda dense. Hahaha! How could she have never realized what a hunk Bado is up until now? What’s gonna happen now that Frey has started looking at him as a MAN and not just a very caring friend? 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, my lovely readers! It’s been one of my favorites to write so far. Such delicious dialogue scenarios.


	7. The Vanished

The shock of cool rain kissing Frey’s flushed face drew a gasp from her lips as she pelted down the street, breaking into a run. She’d left her cloak in Bado’s shop, but there was no going back for it now. Her thoughts tumbled over one another, writhing around in her head and making her heart pound faster and faster.

 

“ _ Calm down. You’re  _ not _ falling in love with Bado.”  _ She thought firmly, “ _ You’re just upset with your boyfriend and he’s been really nice to you lately.” _

 

She focused on the touch of cold raindrops, willing them to cool the fire in her skin, her flushed face, her feverish thoughts. Those thoughts had surprised her during their conversation, but it wasn’t until he had gripped her hand and pleaded with her that it all became too much. Her own panting breath echoed in her ears as she ran down the street back toward the castle. 

 

Thinking of him dating people and sleeping around when he traveled, she’d suddenly coveted that side of him. She suddenly wanted him to see her as a  _ woman _ , not just the princess of Selphia, and not just a friend in a bad relationship that always needed to be consoled. Her breath quickened. Where was this coming from? She’d never looked at the big dwarven blacksmith this way before.

 

It was probably just her projecting, she thought, trying to calm herself. All this trouble with Dylas, the way her boyfriend had disappointed and frustrated her the last few days… of course her mind would be tempted to fantasize about something better. And Bado  _ had been _ better to her. 

 

Yes, her physical attraction to him had suddenly shown itself in eager fashion just now, but it was everything else that had pulled her to him so powerfully up until now. His patience and compassion and concern for  _ her _ , and not her relationship with Dylas had nourished her need to be  _ seen,  _ to be  _ known _ . 

 

Her steps slowed until she stood stone-still in the big open square in front of the castle, panting out visible puffs of vapor in the chill autumn rain. It clicked. 

 

Dylas didn’t  _ know _ her.

 

They’d spent time together, gone on dates, talked, kissed, and fought… but she was just the woman who had pursued him despite his cantankerous attitude and aloof behavior. He hadn’t chosen her. He’d only acquiesced. Were it not for her own stubborn insistence, there would be no relationship. 

 

And perhaps it was the same as her newfound feelings for Bado. He was just the man who was  _ there _ as she needed someone to unload her troubles onto. And she was just the fragile, needy creature who kept coming back to him. Maybe he didn’t want to keep putting her back together every time she fell apart…

 

She winced. He was so very kind and gentle… would he ever tell her if she’d asked too much? Would he admit if he wanted to be free of her drama?

 

The way he’d looked at her, though… the way his voice and eyes had reached for her, begging her to do what would be best for _her._ She just couldn’t quite bring herself to believe that wasn’t genuine concern… And, it hadn't simply been advice, either. He’d _begged_ her, pleading for her to choose her own needs first. It wasn’t just for her sake; it was something _he_ wanted, too. What was she to the lazy blacksmith of Selphia?

 

She shivered, nose, ears, and fingertips growing numb under the cold shower of rain. She knew what the feelings that had suddenly ignited in her  _ wanted _ it all to mean, but… that would mean turning away from the relationship she had. Didn’t she owe it to Dylas to try? Perhaps he would grow to know her if only she managed to explain what she’d been feeling since the fight.

 

Besides, how could she even be sure of these crazy feelings that had just barely appeared? Everything was so mixed up these days. Perhaps all this was just the story she was telling herself to fill the hole Dylas had opened in her heart when he’d scorned her. 

 

She thought back to the fight. Dylas barking at her to leave him alone, insisting he didn’t want to be near her or speak to her. She winced at the memory, the pain still so clear. For one moment she’d become nothing as he turned his back and left her standing there. For one moment his rejection had erased her. The one person she was supposed to be closest to didn’t want her. She trembled in the rain, a deeply rooted fear wrapping tendrils around her heart. But… it couldn’t quite claim her; a warmth that had been kindled by kind words in the deep voice of her friend kept the darkness at bay.

 

Even if her boyfriend had made her disappear… someone else could still see her. She wasn’t nothing to  _ him. _

 

* * * * *

 

Bado stood before the shop’s counter, staring down at the cloak Frey had left behind in her hurry to leave. A sigh escaped his lips.

 

He’d spooked her. His usual policy of hiding his feelings from her had slipped, and now she’d fled. He wasn’t sorry for what he’d said, or even for grabbing her hand. Even if she avoided him now, he’d  _ needed  _ to say those words to her, no matter what came next. 

 

_ Someone _ needed to tell her to put her own needs above what that selfish prick demanded of her. His teeth clenched as he thought of the once-guardian who already knew the touch of her lips. The one she’d chosen, and the one who had hurt her. 

 

Why did she have to pursue the single most dense, careless, prickly fool in all of Selphia, anyway? Was he invisible to her eyes  _ because _ of his gentle demeanor? Or, perhaps she just didn’t look at older, oversized guys with crow’s feet and smile lines that way… He sighed.

 

It didn’t have to be him. He’d always known he had no chance with her. She was a honest-to-gods  _ princess _ , for crying out loud! Life wasn’t fair and you rarely got what you wanted. He’d made peace with that truth decades ago. He  _ knew _ he would never be with her, and yet…

 

Her big emerald eyes shining brightly at him as she’d said those words:

 

“You’re definitely datable, Bado. _ ” _

 

She was only trying to make him feel better. he knew that. He  _ knew  _ it, so why had it given him a sliver of hope that she’d seen him as a  _ man _ … one who’s arms would eagerly welcome her just as soon as she reached for him.

 

Again he thought of Dylas and what the younger man had been planning for his girlfriend. If she stayed with him… if she said yes… 

 

“ _ Am I going to disappear?”  _ Bado thought, the empty feeling settling in his stomach again. Almost two years ago a spirited little woman with bright green eyes had fallen from the sky into Selphia and into his life. Just knowing her, just her kindness and playfulness and their occasional banter together had given his life new color. Frey had awakened him somehow. He didn’t want to lose the vitality her friendship had sparked within him. But more than that: he didn’t want to lose  _ her. _

 

He’d shown his hand already, risking divulging his opinions of her lover. If she chose Dylas even after all that had happened recently, all their exchanges, all his insistence she take care of herself regardless of what her boyfriend wanted… she’d push her friend away. She’d have to. His rejection of Dylas would be at odds with her decision, and imply that he blamed her for her choice. And, what was worse… that bastard would just keep trampling over her feelings, again and again. He’d have to watch from the sidelines as the one he’d wanted so dearly suffered in the hands of a fool who had no idea what treasure had been given him.

 

One of his big, rough hands moved over the fabric of the cloak on the counter. His brow furrowed.

 

_ “It doesn’t haf’ta be me…”  _ the words formed in his mind, ‘ _ But don’t let it be him. I can’t live with him hurting you like this… I just want you to be happy…’ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, constantly ruminating about something you’re anxious or uncertain about. It’s a grand pastime, isn’t it? No. It’s hell. Good Gosh Ding Dang it is HELL! Poor Frey. It’s only been like, two and a half days and she feels like she’s been flailing around in this emotional turmoil for weeks! And now, even all the intriguing new feelings for Bado are stressful too because everything is just so confusing. And if you’re familiar with Dylas’ marriage event, you know it’s gonna get worse before it gets better. Hang in there, Frey! Hang in there, Readers! You know good things are coming in due time, don’t you? <3


	8. The Reason

Just as he had promised, Frey found Dylas standing by the door to the castle the following morning. She sighed, breath puffing before her in the cold autumn chill. Her legs seemed to want to turn her some other direction, but she gritted her teeth and approached her boyfriend. 

 

Upon noticing her, Dylas’ eyes lit up hopefully.

 

”You came.” He breathed, almost awed. Her heart clenched. “I’m sorry, really. It’s all my fault.” He said, eyes locked on hers.

 

She met his gaze, saying nothing for a beat or two. He licked his lips, a nervous gesture.

 

“Does this mean… do you forgive me?” He ventured. She drew a steadying breath.

 

“I don’t know yet.” She said quietly, “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, but it  _ did _ hurt, and I still have no idea why you said those things to me. I do appreciate the apology, though.” She added.

 

He nodded, drooping. “Yeah… I don’t blame you.”

 

“So,” She continued, willing herself to be firm with him despite the sadness etched in his expression, “I’d like you to explain it to me now.” 

 

”R-right. But, uh, first… by way of, well, apology, I uh… I want to take you somewhere!” He blurted out. Her expression tightened. Still he was putting it off?

 

“Where?”

 

”It’s a secret. Close your eyes. I’ll guide you.” He said, reaching for her. She narrowed her eyes, pained by the distrust she felt in this moment, but reluctant regardless.

 

”Isn’t it a little dangerous to go walking the streets with my eyes closed?”

 

”You’ll be fine.” He assured, “I’ll keep a hold of your hand, no matter what. Once we get there, I’ll tell you everything, I promise. Are you ready?”

 

She sighed. If he really explained himself once they arrived she supposed it’d be worth it. She nodded. 

 

”Yeah.”

 

”Good.” He stepped toward her. “Close your eyes.” She did so, and felt his hand wrap around hers and hold it firmly. The sensation reminded her of the feeling of a different hand, big and broad, gently squeezing her hand as a deep voice pleaded… 

 

She pushed the thought away. She was here with  _ Dylas _ right now. She was going to get her answers. This was not the time to let her mind go wandering back to her gentle confidant; not while she held out hope of salvaging her damaged relationship with her boyfriend.

 

Dylas began to tug her along. They moved over the stone roads slowly and carefully. Here and there he murmured some encouragement or entreaty to lift her feet a little more so she wouldn’t trip. How had she come to find herself letting him lead her about blind when her trust in him had been so mauled by his prior abuse? She bore with it, knowing that whatever else he was, Dylas had good intentions, especially where she was concerned. 

 

After what might have been fifty yards or so, she heard a familiar voice call out.

 

”Hey, did you two make up yet?” Doug’s voice came from off to the right.

 

”Shaddup! Leave us alone!” Dylas spat. Frey sighed. She used to think his snappishness with Doug was funny, especially given Doug, always undeterred, just kept approaching him time after time.

 

Really, why on earth had he insisted she close her eyes, anyway. She knew this damn town like the back of her hand. He’d never have been able to hide that they were proceeding steadily toward the restaurant where he lived and worked. 

 

”Hmm? Where do you think are you taking my pretty, precious Frey?” Porcoline’s flamboyant voice sang at them after a little ways further. A smirk pulled at her lips. He never gave up his silly games. She couldn’t help but enjoy the odd chef’s antics, though. Despite his eccentricities he was also one of the most kind and generous people she’d ever encountered. She’d always make allowances for his bizarre humor. 

 

”Urk! Porcoline…” Dylas grumbled, still easily flustered despite having lived with Porco for over a year. “Hey, wait! She’s not yours!” He added, voice hot.

 

”Oh? Then Who’s is she?” Porco teased.

 

“Oh, come on!” Dylas barked, “She’s mine! I won’t let anyone else have her! Got a problem with that?”

 

Frey’s mouth tightened. Perhaps before she’d have found it sweet, but Dylas’ possessive words rankled now. How could he think after what he’d done that she’d be happy to hear him  _ claiming _ her like that…

 

”Woohoohoo! Ooh la la!” Porco chortled. This only flustered Dylas further.

 

”AARGH! Get lost! All of you!” He roared. Doug must still be in earshot. 

 

“ _ Steady…” _ She thought at herself, “ _ Just bear with it until we get there.” _

 

Before long they stepped over the threshold to the restaurant, Dylas coaxing her over the step to ensure her safety. He led her a little ways into the restaurant and then stopped. 

 

“O-okay.” He said nervously, “You can open your eyes now.”

 

* * * * *

 

“Bado! Get your ass up! We gotta go. Now!” A woman’s voice demanded loudly even as the door to the ‘Meanderer’ slammed open on its hinges. A tall, elegant figure with long, pointed ears, and a long plaited tail of reddish-brown hair trailing down behind her, stood with hands on hips in his doorway, eyes bright and dangerous. Illuminata in a frenzy of energetic scheming…

 

Bado’s head snapped up from where it had rested on his folded arms upon the countertop.  He hadn’t been napping this time. His mind was still too troubled. He'd hardly slept the night before either. And now he had the worst sort of company barging in his front door. 

 

“The hell?” He mumbled. 

 

“Chop chop!” The elven woman barked, snapping her fingers. “If you don’t hurry, we’re going to miss them!”

 

“Who?” He returned, brow furrowed. 

 

“Frey and Dylas!”

 

“What?” He returned, eyes widening.

 

“Yeah! He’s leading her blind through the northeast district right now! We have to get to the restaurant before them!”

 

Fear grabbed hold of his heart. He stood, darting around the counter. 

 

“That’s more like it!” Illuminata said, grabbing hold of one of his thick arms and pulling the big man along as she pelted down the stone streets. 

 

His mind raced as they ran. Had Dylas talked Frey into forgiving him already? What other explanation could there be for her agreeing to allow herself to be led about blind by him?

 

“Stop.” Illuminata commanded. Dimly, Bado obeyed, silently halting beside the excitable woman as she peered around the corner of a house. “There they are.” She hissed. He risked a peek around the wall, himself. 

 

Sure enough, Dylas paced slowly down the street backward, his arms outstretched, hands guiding Frey by her own slender arms down the street, her eyes tightly shut.

 

“ _ Does she trust him again already?”  _ He wondered, a stone settling in his belly.

 

“C’mon!” Illuminata whispered, tugging him back the other way. “We’ve got to sneak around and get into Porcoline’s place before they do.”

 

“Why are we sneaking?” Bado asked, walking upright as Illuminata prowled along the backside of the house.

 

“So we can eavesdrop, stupid!” She hissed back at him. He frowned. 

 

“Seems a little shady.” He pointed out. She looked back at him, eyes sharp. 

 

“Are you saying you  _ don’t  _ want to see what happens next?” 

 

“ _ No… I probably don’t… and yet…”  _ He said nothing. 

 

“That’s what I thought.” The elf said with a sly quirk to her tone. Bado’s frown deepened, but he followed her quickly along the side-street and peeked around the last corner alongside the woman. Two breaths later they were ducking into the door of the restaurant, having verified Dylas hadn’t rounded the corner with Frey yet. 

 

“Over here.” Illuminata ordered, pulling Bado along toward the open kitchen at the back of the restaurant. She tugged him with her behind the counter and directed him to sit. He did so, folding his long form into a seated position behind the countertop. From further down the counter, Porco waved silently to them with a mischievous grin from where he lay in a flamboyant repose on the kitchen floor.

 

“No good.” Illuminata whispered, placing a hand flat on top of Bado’s head. “You’re too tall. They’ll see your hair over the countertop.” She shoved down on the crown of his head and he slouched himself into a rather uncomfortable position with his shoulders pressed against the cupboard and his feet crammed against the pantry door opposite the counter top, knees bent. 

 

“Better.” Illuminata nodded. 

 

“Says you.” He grumbled. 

 

A scuffling sound off to his left drew Bado’s attention just as Doug darted into the kitchen area and ducked behind the counter with them. 

 

“Move over you overgrown oaf!” He hissed urgently, shoving at Bado’s side. The blacksmith clamped his mouth shut over an insult and nudged sideways into Illuminata to make room for the smaller dwarf. 

 

“Shh!” She hissed, “Here they come!” 

 

The doorbell chimed as the front door opened again, accompanied by Dylas’ coaxing voice as he backed into the room, leading Frey. Bado’s heart did an uncomfortable maneuver as he heard a little “Oh” in her voice as she stepped over the threshold. Their feet shuffled over the smooth floor and then stopped. 

 

“O-okay… You can open your eyes now.” Dylas said.

 

* * * * *

 

Frey blinked open her eyes. Before her lay a kingly feast, spread on numerous platters and dishes over two of the restaurant tables pushed together and covered by a clean linen tablecloth. All of them looked delightful, tantalizing even. 

 

“Whoa, what’s with all the food?”

 

”I cooked it.” Dylas said, half sheepish, half proud. Frey looked at him, surprised.

 

”What? All of them?” She said reflexively.

 

”I’m sorry.” He said, looking down. “I didn’t want you to know. I was trying to think of a good way to show you how I feel…”

 

”What?”

 

”But I had no idea what to do. I’m no good with words. This is all I could come up with.” He looked up at her for a beat, wincing, “It took longer to set up than I thought, though. And… even though I was trying to do something to make you happy, I hurt you. I really am dumb.”

 

She stared at him, blinking, trying to fill in the blanks.

 

”Wait, so you’re saying you were avoiding me because you didn’t want this secret to get out?”

 

”Yeah, basically.” He said, shuffling in place.

 

”That’s why you were so cold to me? That’s why you ignored me and yelled at me and pushed me away?”

 

”Yeah…” He sighed, looking miserable.

 

”You’re such an idiot.” She sighed, shaking her head, but when she lifted her eyes and looked at him, a small smile had found its way onto her lips. Dylas breath caught and he made a small choking noise.

 

“S-say whatever you want. You’re right. I’m an idiot.” He agreed. She let out a long sigh, her shoulders drooping with the release of tension.

 

So this was it. He didn’t hate her. He wasn’t even angry with her. He was just scared and clumsy and  _ stupid. _ Who lost sight of the whole  _ reason _ he was doing something like that, anyway? Her man, this clumsy, emotionally stunted fool… he was trying in his own backwards way. 

 

“ _ Gods…”  _ She thought, relieved but exasperated, “ _ This all could have been avoided if he’d just said ‘It’s a surprise’ and made me wait without yelling at me.”  _ She shook her head. What a bonehead. Still though, It sure looked like he’d gone to a lot of effort. His humility was helping, too. 

 

“S-so, anyway… I put everything I had into cooking these dishes. Do you… want to try any?.” He ventured, bracing to be rejected. She gave him a small smile and shrugged one shoulder. 

 

”Yeah.” She agreed.

 

”Really?” He asked, brightening, “Great! Dig in.” He pulled out a chair for her and bustled about, passing her silverware and napkin and pouring her drink.

 

“Oh, try this first!” He said, growing even more eager, “And this too!” He piled one thing after another onto the plate before her. With a laugh, she insisted he hold off and serve himself while she tried the things he’d already served her.  

 

It was all delicious, even decadent. He’d really taken all Porco’s teaching to heart. Dylas, of all people, had thrown himself completely into learning to cook, and cook so well it was practically  _ art _ . Her mood softened and her chilly disposition grew warmer toward her partner as the meal carried on. After he’d filled her plate for the second time with all new entrees, she laughed aloud. 

 

”Don’t you think you made a little too much?”

 

”Did I?” He asked, the happy relief palpable in his voice. “Oh, try this one, too!” He reached for a big, glazed fish on a long platter. “Ow—” He hissed and released the plate with a wince.

 

”What’s wrong?” She asked, as it caught her attention. “You’re hurt!” She reached automatically for his hand, noticing a bandage for the first time. Concern rose up instantly in her.

 

”What, this?” He said, pulling his hand back out of her grasp. “That’s my own damn fault.” He said gruffly, “See, somehow the whole town knew I’d hurt you. Volkanon nearly decked me. Forte almost cut me to bits. Margaret blistered my ears. Doug chewed me out.” He explained, gesturing as he listed them off, “Everybody came after me. And I mean  _ everybody. _ I tried to tell them I got it, but they didn’t listen. So, I tried to run, and tripped. That’s how I got this.” 

 

Frey winced. It had been her fault. She’d been the one to go around talking to all the townspeople and revealing how upset she’d been about the fight. If she hadn’t spread it around, maybe they wouldn’t have come after him.

 

”Are you okay?” She asked, guilt in her voice. Dylas looked at her, his eyes still bright.

 

”Yeah. I’m fine.” He said quietly, then looked back down at his bandaged hand. “This is what made me remember what’s really the most important thing to me. I really am sorry, honest.” He said as he returned his gaze to her eyes. He sounded so earnest. Her heart stirred… maybe there was hope for them after all. She still didn’t feel like he saw her for who she was, and he certainly had failed completely to pay attention and listen to her feelings lately, but he was trying, gods help him. She could try too. They could take their time and build their bond back up. She’d talk to him later about her concerns. For now, they could enjoy the moment he’d worked hard to create… and she could offer an olive branch in gratitude for all his effort.

 

“Well,” Frey said, looking around the table again, “I forgive you, so… let’s see how the rest of these turned out, yeah?” He beamed at her and stood up to help serve the remaining dishes.

 

The rest of the meal passed in amicable chit chat and the eating of delicious gourmet foods and desserts. When at last she pulled her napkin from her lap and set it over her empty plate, sitting back with a tired but satisfied sigh, Dylas’ nervous air from earlier returned.

 

”So, did it all taste good?” He asked, fidgeting with his fork.

 

”Yeah.” She said, smiling at him.

 

”Great! I’ll go bring dessert.” He said suddenly, rising from his seat and rushing over to the counter by the kitchen.

 

”What? Desert is already out!” She called, sitting up as he bustled past her.

 

”This is the special one.” He said, waving her off.

 

She waited as he went and fetched the whatever it was. What on earth else could he have possibly made? She’d never eaten so much in her life!

 

After a minute or two he returned, hands obscured behind his back. She bent an eyebrow at him, playfully suspicious. 

 

”What is it?” She said, craning her neck but she could not catch a glimpse around behind him.

 

”Frey, listen:” He said, voice breathless, and serious… “I, uh… I’ve never been good at dealing with people. I’m foul-mouthed and I’ve got a bad attitude. I know I do. This might not be the last time I hurt you. To be blunt, I’m scared.”

 

”Dylas…” She said, touched by his open humility. She opened her mouth to tell him they had plenty of time to figure out how to be better to each other and learn to understand one another, but he had already begun speaking again.

 

”But y’know, I like this town. I want to stay and live with everyone here. I mean, everyone here accepts me. I like them. I didn’t know how it got that way. But, I thought about it. It didn’t take long to come up with the answer.” He said softly.

 

”What was it?” She replied, her voice matching his intimate volume.

 

”You.” He said, his golden eyes soft and warm.

 

”Huh?” She blurted, taken by surprise.

 

”You changed me. I didn’t deal with others much at first. But you kept coming to me to chat. And if somebody had problems, you would help them, no matter who it was.” He paused, looking down. “Seeing you do all that made me jealous, to be honest. You had something I didn’t. And that something… healed my heart.” He looked up, meeting her eyes with a question in his amber ones. “Do you see what I’m getting at? You’ve become something I just can’t live without anymore. It’s you that changed me. I like everyone. But, it’s only you that I love.” 

 

Frey stared back at her boyfriend. His words poured into her, filling her up to the brim, but as if she were a cracked cup they drained out again, her heart unable to hold onto them. 

 

What did it mean for Dylas to love her? He loved what she’d brought to his life, the influence she’d had on him. She’d inspired him to change and that was wonderful… but could she live with a love that would sometimes take the form of shouting her down and pushing her away? Did she want the love of someone who, harboring such warm feelings for her, could simultaneously be so ignorant of her feelings, so oblivious to her pain and struggle? Could she live with being dismissed and disregarded, even if there were no ill feelings behind it? He was right, he would hurt her again, she knew it as surely as she knew the touch of the earth beneath her feet.

 

She thought again of his earnest effort to show her what was in his heart, and now his carefully chosen words—perhaps the most miraculous feat for him—to tell her his honest feelings. Were those feelings for her, Frey, the real person she was inside? Or, would he be saying this to any woman who had stubbornly insisted on giving him time and affection in spite of his attitude and defensiveness? 

 

He had come so far; he really was different now. If his feelings for her had fostered that growth in him, perhaps she could try to be patient, to see if someday he could understand her, as well as ‘love’ her…

 

Frey drew a breath, readying her words, wanting to tell him she was happy he felt these things, that she was grateful for all his effort in making the food to surprise her, that she was willing to try, but that things would have to be different than they had been. She couldn’t live in truth with him if she couldn’t tell him how she felt and trust that he’d listen. Her eyes were troubled as she looked into his. She opened her mouth:

 

“Dyl—” 

 

“Look.” He said before her voice finished speaking his name, and brought his right hand around from behind his back. He opened it before her and presented a simple silver wedding band with a small red stone in a rough setting.

 

* * * * * 

 

Behind the counter, Bado’s heart sank slowly but surely  through the floorboards as the meal Dylas had prepared for Frey went on and on. This was what he’d feared. She was so kindhearted. A gesture like this, and the words he’d offered her… Sweet, compassionate Frey would easily bend over backward to spare the feelings of the once-guardian and give him another chance. 

 

Their companionable chit-chat as Dylas served her more and more of the dishes he’d prepared stabbed at the blacksmith’s pointed ears. The stiffness and pain growing in his cramped limbs where he held himself still, folded up uncomfortably behind the counter, was nothing to the growing sense of dread. Dylas’ efforts had been rewarded. And now… 

 

”So, did it all taste good?” The voice of the man who had spat venom at Selphia’s princess in Bado’s workshop filled the blacksmith with dread as he heard the excitement and anticipation in it.

 

”Yeah.” Frey said in her sweet, warm voice.

 

”Great! I’ll go bring dessert.” A little bustle of movement sounded as Dylas rose from his seat. 

 

”What? Dessert is already out!” She said, sounding confused.

 

”This is the special one.” Dylas explained, and paced across the floor toward the counter where Bado, Doug, Illuminata, and Porco crouched behind.  

 

Bado closed his eyes as Dylas approached the counter and resisted the urge to leap up from behind the counter and seize the younger man by his shirt collar. 

 

“ _ It’s not your place. If she wants this, you can’t try and stop her. You CAN’T interfere.”  _ He scolded himself firmly in his mind. 

 

No matter how wrong this felt, Frey was her own woman and he… he was  _ not _ her lover. 

 

Dylas exhaled a shaky breath as he rustled in his coat pocket and opened a small wooden box. 

 

Bado cringed, knowing all too well what was inside. 

 

“Here goes…” Dylas murmured to himself on the other side of the counter, and walked back toward the table where Frey sat, waiting. 

 

Dylas’ words were carefully chosen and rehearsed. He laid it all out before his lover: his hopes and fears, his gratitude and regret. It was a speech that was bound to awaken her kindly, loving nature. Every word sickened Bado further. He was going to lose her. He was going to disappear. 

 

Doug shifted beside Bado, peeking carefully around the corner. 

 

“Doug! What are you doing?” Illuminata whispered fiercely, somehow remaining almost silent. 

 

“He’s giving her something…” Doug whispered.

 

“I can’t hear, Doug! Shut up and get back behind the counter!” Illuminata insisted.

 

“It’s… a ring!” Doug gasped.

 

* * * * *

 

Frey’s breath stopped as her eyes fell upon the ring in Dylas’ hand before her. Her mind reeled. A dizzy, spinning sensation threatened to fling her from the earth. She blinked rapidly, heart suddenly racing, frozen in panic.

 

“ _ No.” _

 

“Do you know what this is?” Dylas asked softly.

 

“ _ No no no…” _

 

“It’s an engagement ring. To be honest…  _ this _ is what I didn’t want you to find out about. Not the food. I spent hours and hours at Bado’s workshop.”

 

“ _ Bado knew… This is what he was so worried about.”  _ She realized, mind racing. A sick feeling rose up in her gut. Dylas kept going without a pause.

 

“I’ve never crafted anything before. It’s not the neatest one, but I wanted to make it with my own hands. I want you to take it.” 

 

He grasped her hand. Shock kept her frozen as he slid the ring onto her slender finger.

 

“ _ This can’t be happening… I was going to try… I was supposed to have time to heal…”  _

 

“Frey… will you marry me?” Dylas said, staring right at her as panic consumed her inside. His gold eyes held fast to her green ones but his expression showed no sign he knew the storm behind them.

 

He couldn’t see her… 

 

That was it… her love for him, already strained and stretched, evaporated then and there.

 

* * * * *

 

Bado closed his eyes tightly but the image of Dylas holding out that little silver band to Frey appeared in his mind in spite of him..

 

“ _ Gods… let this be a nightmare… wake me up from a nap in my shop…” _

 

“Damnit, Doug! I’m trying to listen!” Illuminata hissed. 

 

“He’s putting it on her finger!” Doug gasped.

 

“ _ No… _ ”

 

“Doug, I swear to all the elven gods, if you don’t—”

 

“He’s… _proposing_ to her!” The red-headed dwarf breathed in disbelief. 

 

“ _ She’s going to hate me… I told her he doesn’t deserve her and now she’s wearing his ring…” _

 

It was over. 

 

“ _ I am no-one to her now…” _

 

* * * * *

 

Frey stared at Dylas, saying nothing. 

 

“ _ I can’t marry you.”  _

 

His expression grew worried as they stood in silence. She looked down at the ring on her finger, feeling sick. 

 

”I… need some time… I can’t make this decision right now.” She breathed, desperately smothering the urge to run. She couldn’t tell him yes, but after all of this… after he’d practically told her she was his reason for  _ being _ … she couldn’t break his heart right now.

 

“O-okay…” He said, voice trembling. She looked up at him and saw the fear rising, the anticipation of being crushed. She saw it and she knew if she rejected him right now it would break him.

 

‘ _ Please, Frey… do what’s right for  _ you _ … even if it’s hard… even if it hurts.’  _ Her friend’s voice echoed in her mind.

 

Dylas’ eyes searched hers desperately, looking for some kind of affirmation, something to cling to. 

 

 _“I_ _can’t say it… I’m sorry…”_

 

She couldn’t think. She had to get  _ out _ of this situation.

 

”I’m not saying no, exactly, but…” She heard herself say, trying to carve out some path to escape.  _ Something _ that wasn’t agreeing to marry Dylas or plunging a knife in the form of a two letter word into his heart.

 

”R-really? Th-that’s okay! Take all the time you need!” He breathed, shaking visibly, ”It’s not a no… Oh geez. My heart feels like it’s gonna burst!” He gasped.

 

“WOO YOU GO, DYLAS!” Doug’s voice suddenly rang out and the small dwarven man slammed into Dylas, wrapping his arms tightly around his argumentative friend. 

 

”GAH! What the hell? Where’d you come from?” Dylas barked incredulously.

 

”Darn it, Doug! If you’d waited just a minute longer, we might have gotten to see them kiss!” Illuminata shouted as she stood up from behind the counter. 

 

Frey blinked at the woman, stunned silent, unlike Dylas.

 

”What? How long have you been there?” He cried.

 

”Since you said ‘You can open your eyes now.’” The would-be detective explained. 

 

”How come you were here before we were?” Dylas demanded. 

 

”Congrats, man. This is seriously so awesome!” Doug said, his voice almost breaking. Still he clung to Dylas in a firm hug.

 

”Get off me, already!” The once-guardian bellowed, pushing at Doug, who refused to release him.

 

”Dylas, when you have a daughter, let me help raise her!” Porcoline sang out as he, too stood up from where he’d been hiding behind the kitchen counter. 

 

Frey’s head whipped around to where Porco was leaning over the counter waving to the two of them. 

 

“ _ A… daughter?”  _

 

”Not on your li— wait, you too?” Dylas floundered. 

 

Volkanon stepped into the room from the adjacent one. “By the by, about the ceremony…” he began.

 

“ _ Ceremony…” _

 

”Volkanon? There’s more of you here?” Dylas spluttered. 

 

”Best start the preparations early. Leave it to me.” Arthur, the true prince of Selphia said in reasonable tones as he, too appeared. 

 

“ _ Stop it… there isn’t going to be a wedding! All of you… just stop!”  _ Her thoughts screamed. Just yesterday they had all practically hunted her boyfriend as an angry mob, now they were falling over one another to make plans for a wedding she hadn’t agreed to. She turned her head this way and that, staring stunned-faced at her friends as they appeared from every corner of the restaurant. Then she froze.

 

A figure stood up, tall and broad, from behind the counter and stood silently behind Illuminata. Frey’s eyes found Bado immediately but he was looking down, his expression carefully neutral. Where he stood silently in the background no one but her would be looking at him. No one but her could see the disappointment in his slumped shoulders. 

 

“ _ I couldn’t do it… I’m sorry.”  _ She stared fretfully, desperately at him from across the dining hall. His blue-gray eyes rose to meet hers and for one horrible moment the sorrow in them stopped her heart. He looked away again immediately, mouth tightening.

 

Frey’s hand twitched, trying to reach out to him. She almost forgot where she was and what insanity was unfolding around her but the bizarre paralysis of the moment held her in place. 

 

“ _ Please don’t hate me… I couldn’t bear it…”  _

 

Meg popped out from behind the piano, chiming, ”I’ll handle the music. I’ll play my best ballads.” 

 

“ _ I need you…” _

 

Jones and Nancy stepped in from Arthur’s office next door. ”Ah, this brings back so many fond memories, doesn’t it?” Jones asked, patting his wives arm clasped with his at the elbow.

 

”Yes it does.” She replied, leaning her head on his shoulder. 

 

“ _ You’re the only one who knows me…”  _

 

Frey stared at Bado, unnoticed by the chattering townsfolk gathering around her and Dylas. He did not raise his eyes to her again, his face a mask as he turned and slipped out of the room.

 

“ _ Without you…”  _ She thought, eyes burning, “ _ Without you… I’ll disappear…”  _

 

”Just how many of you were here?” Dylas barked, looking around at all of the people gathered.

 

Volkanon began to sniffle. ”’You had something I didn’t. And that something… healed my heart.’ That… was so moving…!! WAAAA!” He roared as tears streamed down his lined face. 

 

”Stop it! Don’t repeat what I said!” Dylas shouted, slashing a hand through the air. 

 

“ _ None of you…” _

 

Porcoline took up the game: “‘Everyone accepts me. I like them.’ In other words, you have proposed to moi as well??”

 

”NO I HAVEN’T! AND STOP SAYING WHAT I SAID!!” Dylas roared. 

 

“ _ None of you know me…” _

 

Illuminata took up a dramatic pose, taking a turn: ”You’ve turned into something I just can’t live without anymore.” Several people giggled at her flair.

 

”Stop laughing!” Dylas snapped. 

 

“ _ None of you can see me…” _

 

Forte came striding in the room now. “I can hardly believe you said something so embarrassing out loud.” She said, shaking her head. 

 

“ _ I am no-one...” _

 

”And who was eavesdropping on it?” Dylas countered.

 

”Erm, I… uh…” Forte fumbled.

 

Frey stood, staring at nothing, now, frozen in an impossible moment. Inside her everything was crumbling. Panic gripped her heart with icy fingers. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t hear the words of the people around her anymore. Her heart hammered, struggling to keep its rhythm. She was going to die.

 

”Damnit. Staying here is about to kill me from sheer embarrassment.” Dylas’ voice cracked in the air, striking her ears and snapping her back to reality for a breath. He finally pried Doug off of him and shoved the other man from his person. 

 

“Frey!” He called. She looked up numbly at him. What the hell else could possibly happen at this point?

 

”Huh?” She said dumbly.

 

”I’m stealing you.” He seized her arm,and hauled her out of the building at a dead sprint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof this is a rough one. Some folks can swim against the current of perceived social pressure, but for many being in Freys shoes in this situation would be a no-win scenario. Could you shatter the perceptions of a joyful crowd of your entire local community? I couldn’t...
> 
> The whole fic up to now has been building to this scene. It’s a very powerful moment for me writing it because I once had an experience where my (ex) partner misrepresented my identity and choices to his entire social community publicly. Writing Frey in this moment in the story comes from a very personal place for me: The earliest I can remember feeling a panic attack, the earliest I experienced the kind of anxiety that can change your behavior and choices against your better judgement and the truth within you. 
> 
> If you connect to this scene and feel for Frey then I’ve succeeded. I’d love to hear what you think!
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks, as always for reading!


	9. The Bottle

The cacophonous chorus of voices all excitedly chattering and shouting nipped at Bado’s pointed ears as he turned his back and slipped out of the restaurant. No, he could not stay and listen to them making plans and arrangements for the wedding of the woman he had grown to love to a brute with the emotional awareness of a broadsword. He breathed a bone-deep weary sigh, his heavy footfalls plodding along the flat stones of the thoroughfare.

 

His arms and legs weighed him down, feeling so much heavier than usual. He’d been here before: the hollow, aching emptiness when someone dear to him had been yanked out of his life. He knew from experience it would pass, but that did nothing to ease the pain right now.

 

The gray sky rumbled, and a whisper from above drew his eyes. A curtain of rainfall swept toward him from the north, covering the restaurant and the entire district in a hush of pattering water on stone. Mercifully, the rain drowned out the voices still shouting excitedly inside. He kept walking, cold water gradually soaking into his hair and clothing.

 

There was only one thing to do, now… normally he’d reserve only one night a year for an alcohol-induced oblivion. But, tradition would make way for his present need.

 

The rain matted down his furred collar and plastered his dark hair to his head as he walked southward.

 

Finally, he reached out a big, gloved hand and pulled open the door to the grocery.

 

“Good afternoon—oh my, you’re soaked to the bone!” Old blossom’s frail voice greeted him. Bado glanced down at himself and gave a little ‘hm’ in acknowledgement. She was right, of course. Rain dripped from his beard, and his pointed ears stung with the cold.

 

“What on Earth did you come walking all the way here in the rain for, dear?” The old woman asked, a hand to her chest as she looked at him with a mixture of pity and curiosity.

 

“I know I’m’a few weeks early, but dy’a have my order?” Bado asked.

 

“Oh, why yes, actually. It isn’t always readily available, so I keep one in stock in case the re-order takes too long.”

 

“Great.” He sighed gratefully. “It’s been a hell of a day.”

 

Blossom tsked. “Well, drinking won’t solve whatever is bothering you, young man.” Her voice was stern but he laughed tiredly at the application of the word ‘young’ to him.

 

“There ain’t no solving it, granny. I’m only looking for a little spell from my troubles. Please order the usual one for the anniversary. I’ll buy both.

 

“Hmph.” Blossom huffed, and lifted a dark bottle from beneath the counter where she kept the specially ordered goods. She set it on the counter without a word. He knew the price plenty well by now. The big blacksmith deposited a generous handful of gold onto the counter and picked up the bottle in one gloved hand as he read the label, purely out of habit.

 

His best friend’s favorite northern whiskey, ironically distilled not too far from his own home village. Bado was no featherweight when it came to drinking; Hell, his size alone made it an endeavor to get drunk. But this stuff, matured over 18 years & cask strength, was more than equal to the task of putting even his lights out. It had never been _his_ favorite; the bite was too rough, but habit had a way of grabbing hold of him with things like this. Even outside of his yearly ritual of drinking in remembrence of Forte & Kiel’s father, Tristan, Bado rarely bought anything else aside from whatever cheap swill was easily to hand.

 

“Couldn’t you have picked something cheaper?” He murmured to his long-dead friend.

 

“What was that?” Blossom asked, cupping a withered hand over her ear.

 

“Nothin’ ma’am.” Bado replied, giving a weak smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He raised the bottle to her “Thanks for keeping me supplied.”

 

“I really should stop ordering it. I don’t want to encourage this behavior.” The old woman grumbled.

 

“It’s only for special occasions, Blossom, lighten up!” He tried to sound cheerful, the crazy side of him that reveled in the insanity of the darkest moments of his life creeping up to the surface. It was either that or become that hollowed-out wretch again…

 

“I thought you only drank it for the dead?” She countered.

 

“That’s right.” He replied, a false joviality in his voice. He leaned right into the character. Better to be crazy than sane when everything around you was more crazy than sane.

 

“Then who died?” Blossom demanded, her tone clearly impatient with his jokes.

 

“I did.” He said brightly, hooking a thumb at his own chest and smiling a crooked, empty smile. Blossom blinked at him, clearly baffled, but he only turned about and raised a hand in farewell as he left the shop, whiskey in hand.

   

The big dwarven man sighed out a quick breath as he turned right and crossed the big public square in front of the castle on his way back home. The momentary entertainment of toying with the old shopkeeper passed, he slipped back into a morose silence. He couldn’t pretend to himself that he was able to laugh right now.

 

They were going to get _married_ … He’d have to watch her walk through the town in bridal regalia, arm in arm with that fool… He’d have to live with the knowledge that Dylas, who had trampled her feelings and shouted at her right in front of him, would be the one she lay down with on her wedding night.

 

He made a short, harsh growl of a sound as he thought of it. A woman like her should be _treasured_ , adored, given all the affection and tenderness a man was capable of. He hated to think what her experiences with Dylas as a husband were going to be like across the board, but the idea of Dylas fucking her was the worst of all.

 

“ _He ain’t gonna take care of you…”_ He thought miserably. “ _Hell I’d be shocked if he knows a damn thing about a woman’s pleasure. I’d take good care of you if given half a chance. I’d make you_ sing _if it were me there with you as my bride.”_

 

But he’d never have the opportunity to show her the best he had to offer. She’d be stuck satisfying the appetites of a brute who probably wouldn’t even know to put her first.

 

They’d probably have kids… Then he’d have to watch someone with his nose and her eyes grow up, half her wonderful, beautiful self, and half that punk-ass idiot…

 

He clenched a fist at his side, feeling his expression shift to a scowl. Gods, he needed to get home and pop the cork on this bottle. He had to drown out the anger and frustration, and the sorrow…

 

Something caught his eye. A patch of red in the dismal, blue and gray of the rain. He turned and squinted through the rain. The short, point-eared silhouette of Selphia’s one other dwarf, the same young man that had been stuffed behind the counter at Porcoline’s with him not long ago, was plodding toward the lake, everything about him looking just as miserable and hollow as Bado felt. The strange sight spared the big man for one moment from his sorrows as curiosity kindled to life inside him. What did Doug have to be so unhappy about? Was he… could he be in love with Frey, too? The indirect admission sent a spike of pain through Bado’s heart and he flinched. Suddenly reclaimed by his misery, his piqued interest in Doug’s troubles snuffed out even before the distant figure faded from sight on the path leading West. The big blacksmith lifted his heavy, booted feet, one over the other, proceeding on his morose journey home.

 

Another hundred rain-soaked yards and he was standing at his own front door, dripping wet with a face stormier than the sky above him. He grabbed the iron handle and pushed open the door, ducking inside his simple, cluttered sanctuary.

 

With a dissatisfied grunt, he looked down at the puddle he was creating on the floor as every part of him dripped rainwater. He stooped, set the bottle down, and untied his boots. Setting them aside, he snatched up the bottle again and padded wetly toward the workshop to hang his things in front of the forge to dry, divesting himself of his gloves, vest, coat, and belt as he went. He paused at the shop’s counter, pulling out a corkscrew from the drawer, and deftly popping open the whiskey.

One should never drink cask strength liquor neat, but he was in desperate need of a shortcut to the comfortable oblivion of a drunken stupor. He raised the bottle to his lips and took a big swig. The extra-strong booze burned all the way down, igniting a rush of heat as it went and dosing his tangled brain with the first hint of blessed numbness. He sighed, throat ragged from the rough liquor, and turned toward the workshop.

 

The glow that lit the doorframe was quite a bit brighter than it ought to be, as if he’d left the hatch open on the forge. He frowned. He might be a lazy slacker but he was _not_ one to shirk where safety protocol was concerned. He took another drink and another step forward.

 

A small sound, just barely audible, brushed his ear. He jumped, a flash of shock shooting up his backbone. Was that…? Standing still as a statue, he strained his pointed dwarf’s ears, trying to catch the sound again.

 

A quiet little sniffle sounded once more, coming from the workshop. He drew a slow, wary breath and stepped over the threshold into the stone-floored workshop. The sound was coming form the direction of the forge. Sure enough, the hatch was open, bathing the room in an orange glow as the heat of the forge fire breathed into the room from the iron mouth. He stepped carefully around the table, heart thumping in his chest, barely daring to breathe.

 

There she was.

 

Bado stared, wide-eyed, at the impossible sight before him.

 

A sodden, miserable looking Frey with red-rimmed, puffy eyes and the most beaten-down posture he’d ever seen on a woman sat on the hard, bare floor of his workshop in front of the forge. She didn’t move, only staring blankly into the fire as tears rolled down her cheeks and dripped onto the stones below her. Her long green hair stuck to her forehead and cheeks, soaked through with the rain. She sat with her legs folded up before her, knees bent and heels flat on the floor; one hand lay limp at her side and the other curled in a loose grip in her lap, holding something he could not see.

 

Every last thought fell out of his head but one: He _had_ to help her, comfort her, _anything_ …

 

“Hey…” He breathed very gently, slowly crouching down and setting the clothing and bottle aside. Just as if he were approaching a frightened, injured creature, he settled himself into a kneel beside her, every movement careful and gradual. She blinked slowly as she heard his voice but said nothing, still motionless.

 

“Frey…” He murmured, reaching out a big, angular hand. His fingertips brushed her cheek as gently as he could manage as he coaxed her into looking at him. She moved with his touch, turning her head toward him and finally looking up.

 

The absolute misery in her emerald eyes shook him. His hands trembled. His breath stopped.

 

“Oh, Frey…” He sighed, heart aching for her. Big, fat tears shining with the golden glow of the forge pooled in her eyelids and then overflowed, streaming down the tracks on her cheeks and dripping from her chin. His arms twitched, a heartbeat away from wrapping around her and pulling her to him. He needed to hold her and stroke her hair and murmur comfort and reassurance into her ears. Maybe it was just the booze stripping away his inhibition, but everyone and everything else could go to hell. The woman before him, the one he adored above all, had become the hollow, miserable wretch _he_ had been all those years ago. He _knew_ the look of someone who’d lost all sense of belonging, of connection to others, who had lost the idea of themself…

 

Just as he began to move her voice, faint and weak, sounded from her barely parted lips.

 

“S-sorry…” She squeaked. He blinked at her, confused and more worried than ever.

 

“Frey…” He said, voice so careful and quiet, “What—”

 

“I’m sorry, Bado.” She whispered again.

 

“For what?” He asked, brow tented above his eyes, worry almost making him frantic inside. He held himself still.

 

“I… couldn’t do it.” She looked down and slowly opened the grasp of the hand in her lap. Resting upon her palm was the rough engagement ring Dylas had presented to her. Bado’s mouth went dry as he saw it. Frey drew a shaking breath and sobbed once.

 

“I couldn’t d-do it…” She repeated, gasping between phrases, “I w-wanted t-to… what y-you s-said before… I t-tried…” She burst into a fresh wave of tears, sobbing and shaking. Bado reached for her. Frey flinched as he moved and he hesitated. She cringed, sorrow and pain distorting her beautiful features.

 

“Please—” She gasped, “Don’t h-hate me…”

 

He moved again, cupping her tear-streaked face in his big hands and drawing up close, aching to soothe her.

 

“Oh, no no no… I could never hate you, Frey…” He breathed, staring into her green eyes with all the unguarded concern he felt written plainly on his face. She gave a strangled keen and leaned into his hands, sobbing again. He gathered her up and pulled her to him, sitting back and cradling her against his chest.

 

“Easy, easy…” He hummed, “Just breathe… You’re safe here.”

 

She shook and gasped and whimpered, one hand clenched in the damp fabric of his shirt, burying her puffy face in his chest. He curled about her, stroking her hair and speaking softly in a continuous stream of reassurance.

 

“Everythin’s gonna be okay. You’re safe, Frey. I gotcha.”

 

Slowly over what seemed an eternity, she calmed, going almost limp in his arms, and finally ceased her sobbing.

 

“Good girl…” He breathed, “Just take it easy. You got all the time you need. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

 

She stirred, shifting into a sitting position before him.

 

“Sorry…” She whispered again.

 

“It’s alright, Frey…” He said softly, “I just wanna help ya.” She looked up at him, eyes still leaking the occasional tear. “What’s going on, missy? Tell me what I can do…”

 

“I…” She faltered, “I wanted to do what you said before… do what’s right for me… but, he…” tension seized her again, but she mastered it after a beat or two. “I couldn’t say no… but…”

 

“The proposal?” He ventured, voice very quiet. She nodded. Her chest rose and fell as she carefully took a few long, steadying breaths. Suddenly aware of the cold, hard stone floor beneath them, Bado scrambled to his feet and pulled the bench around the work table, pushing it into place before the warmth of the forge.

 

“Sit here, let’s get you warmed up and dried off.” He said, helping her up and settling her onto the bench. Next he sat beside her. She opened her eyes and looked into his, earnest, almost desperate.

 

“I messed up.” She said, voice altered by her stuffy nose. “I should have just said ‘no’, then and there…”

 

“You’re… _not_ marrying him?” He breathed. She stiffened, clenched fist tightening around the ring closed within it. Fury blazed in her eyes and she rose, angling her body toward the fiery maw of the forge.

 

“No!” Her voice rang out, suddenly strong again. With a sudden rush of energy and a blur of movement, she flung the wedding band into the forge. She glared into the fire as it popped and crackled, back straight, Breathing hard.

 

“I will _never_ marry you…” She whispered at the fire as it consumed the metal of the ring Dylas had slipped onto her finger.

 

Bado’s jaw dropped. He just sat there, paralyzed by shock. Frey suddenly drooped tiredly and sat back down upon the bench beside him. He gaped at her, completely unequal to speech for the moment. Eventually he closed his mouth, still blinking at the woman beside him, and reached wordlessly down behind the bench, plucking up the bottle of whisky. He held it out to her with a tentative gesture.

 

She looked down at it, then grasped the neck of the bottle, sending a little thrill through him as her fingers brushed his. She lifted the bottle to her lips and tilted her head back as she took a pull of the liquor. All at once she jerked forward and gave a wracking fit of coughing, handing back the bottle as she bowed her head and wheezed:

 

“Gods and dragons, what the _hell_ are you drinking?”

 

With a sudden jolt of embarrassment, Bado accepted the bottle and gave a nervous laugh.

 

“Uh, sorry…” He said, abashed, “I, uh… was kinda lookin’ to knock myself out.” She looked up at him, brow bent. He swallowed, but declined to explain himself. What was he supposed to say? ‘I love you too much so I wanted to drink myself stupid and forget you were engaged to someone else?’ Instead, he gingerly began to try and unravel the situation.

 

“I… couldn’t hear from where we were hiding…” He said slowly. “You… didn’t say ‘yes’?”

 

Frey shook her head. He swayed in place, freshly alcohol-addled brain struggling to keep up. She _hadn’t_ said yes. She _wasn’t_ engaged to Dylas!

 

“I said I needed time.” She explained, voice getting a little steadier. “He’d already put the ring on my finger, though. Didn’t even wait for my answer…”

 

Emotions attacked his mind from every side. Confusion as his understanding was overturned, anger at Dylas’ presumption, excitement, hope, fear, yearning…

 

“I couldn’t break his heart right then, after everything he’d said.” She sighed. “But… He doesn’t love me.” Bado blinked at her, waiting. She swallowed. “He says he does… but he has no idea who I am. He’s never even bothered to try and find out. When he said all that stuff about how he admired me and I ‘healed his heart’… I was going to try… I was going to stay with him.”

 

Bado swallowed, everything in him a jumble.

 

“But… it would have taken time… it hurt so much, the other day…” She explained, words flowing freely from her now, “How could he possibly think we could go from _that_ to _marriage,_ just like that? He just… doesn’t get any of it…”

 

“Ain’t gonna argue that.” Bado murmured gruffly. She nodded sadly.

 

“He’s trying… gods he’s really trying. Remember what he was like when I first brought him back from the temple?” She asked, looking up at him. He nodded. “He’s so much better now. I don’t want to erase all that. I don’t want to take away what’s motivated him to grow so much… But I _can’t_ marry him… and everyone in town just _went along_ with it!” She said, growing angry. “They were ready to run him out of town yesterday! _How_ could they think him _proposing_ to me was okay right now?” He shook his head, expression fretful. She was breathing heavily again, but this time it was anger. “I can’t believe any of them. _None_ of them could see me… I thought I was going to die… everything was spinning. I couldn’t breathe… it felt like I was vanishing.”  She looked up at Bado, sorrow bending her expression once more. “When you left… I thought…” He winced.

 

“No. No, I just… I was so worried about ya, Frey… I didn’t want him t’be able to hurt ya anymore.” He explained, “I thought you’d said yes, and there was nothin’ I could do. It was your choice.”

 

She looked down again and sighed out a long, weary breath, then held out a hand. He looked down at it dumbly for a beat. She rolled her wrist and he realized she was gesturing toward the bottle in his hand. He hurried to pass it back to her. The princess took another swig of the whiskey and held her breath, squeezing her eyes shut as it burned its way down her throat.

 

She passed it back to him and he, too, took a pull, trying not to think too hard about the fact her lovely lips had just touched the mouth of the bottle he now raised to his own.

 

“I’m glad…” She murmured. “I… don’t know what I’d do without you, right now.”

 

“I ain’t done anythin’.” He returned nervously, fidgeting. She looked up into his eyes, her expression utterly unguarded. His insides squirmed.

 

“You have…” She said softly “You’ve cared… you’ve _listened_ to me… and that’s more than anyone else has done lately.” She stared into his eyes with hers still bent with sorrow. “You care more about what I’m feeling than what I can _do_ for you. You care about my freedom to choose my own path. You’re the _only one_ who can see me… When I look at you… I know you can.”

 

Bado swallowed, protestations on his tongue, unspoken. He hadn’t done anything impressive… just gave a damn about her as a _person_. He didn’t deserve her praise just for treating her the way she oughta be treated.

 

“I just—” He murmured.

 

“Want me to be happy?” She finished. He drew in a breath, held it, and nodded, staring back at her with a faint feeling of unreality that had nothing to do with the alcohol.

 

“That’s why I’m here.” Frey breathed, eyes soft as she gazed at him. “I need you right now.”

 

Bado’s heart hammered. These words… weren’t they the sort one should be saying to a lover? She was a mixed-up, emotional mess right now, though, and more than likely half drunk after two big swigs of the extra strong whiskey.

 

“ _Don’t get your hopes up, ya big idiot.”_ Bado thought, swallowing as he stared into her eyes.

 

“I’m here, Frey.” He said, choosing his words carefully. “I’ll always listen.” It was true whether he was her friend or her lover. He’d always be there for her.

 

“Thank you.” She whispered, then wiped at her eyes with a handkerchief pulled from her pocket.

 

“So, uh…” He began, curiosity overtaking his nerves, “How’d ya find yourself here? I’d’a figured Dylas would have meant to spend the rest of the day with ya.”

 

“Oh…” She said, giving a bitter little laugh and putting her hand out again. He passed her the bottle. “He dragged me off to the lake after the restaurant…” She took a drink and handed the whiskey back. He followed suit. “Told me about when he’d become a guardian… d’you know they basically picked him for sacrifice? Cause he makes a good conduit for runes… Locked him up in a shack to keep him from running off.”

 

Bado grunted in acknowledgment, unsure what to think of the new information yet. Frey continued, staring into the forge fire: “Bein’ a guardian was meant to be a one-way ticket. He was as good as dead. But they _didn’t_ lock him up, really… they made it easy to escape… knew it wasn’t fair and didn’t want him to have to carry it all on his shoulders.” She looked down at her hands. “Only he didn’t give a damn about living, so it never occurred to him to escape, knowing if he became a guardian he could help Venti live.” Bado watched her, concern rising up again, suspecting he knew what would come next. “But now… he says he wants to live because of how I’ve changed him. He says if it ever comes down to sacrificing himself again, he won’t be able to do it because he wants to live now… with me.” The words hung in the air. Bado could see her struggle, the pressure bearing down on her slender shoulders.

 

“What did you say?” He ventured after a few beats.

 

“I told him he should live, then… that’s all.” She said, giving the barest hint of a shrug. “I’m happy he’s grown so much. I want this new him to live and be happy, too. But… I can’t be with him anymore, so… what happens when I tell him that? Is he going to give up on life again?”

 

“That ain’t fair.” Bado said, quiet but firm. She looked up at him. “It’s not on you, Frey. If the only reason he wants to live is you and the relationship he’s _imagining_ he has with you… well, then he’s got a flimsy hold on life and that’s a problem with _him_. Ya can’t make someone else responsible for ya like that.

 

“But… even if that’s true, when I leave him…” She trailed off.

 

“His life is his own, just as your life is _your_ own…” Bado insisted, “it ain’t his right to _take_ it. Only you can give it. He said he wants to live so he couldn’t sacrifice himself again, right? Well you don’t gotta sacrifice yourself either. You wanna live too, so you should do what will let you live the way you want.”

 

Frey gave a little ‘hm’, a slight smile tugging one corner of her mouth. They each drank again as she contemplated his words. The buzz was getting good. His worries were starting to weaken.

 

She was _here_ with him after all. So what was there to worry about, really? She’d said she _needed_ him… he wasn’t in danger of disappearing now. This was _good…_ only… his addle brain couldn’t quite forget his concern for her. As long as Frey was half-undone, so too would he be.

 

“I’mma let it cool off a bit…” She mumbled, speech beginning to slur, “Can’t do it t’day…”

 

“It don’t hafta be t’day.” He returned, his speech only a little sloppier than usual. “But y’should do it soon, y’know?” She nodded, sighed, and slid herself down off the bench onto the floor, flopping onto her back and staring up at the ceiling.

 

“Y’think if’I put a wig on a woolly and put ‘er next to ‘im he’d notice?” She asked, tone switching to something less serious. He chuckled, and moved to the floor as well. It looked comfortable, after all, with her lyin’ there… He lay on his back as well, his feet pointing to the opposite wall as hers, their heads lying near enough to keep speaking, easily.

 

“Maybe…” He sighed as he came to rest on the stones beside her. “But d’ya really wanna subject th’poor thing t’that?” She laughed tiredly, the sound a breath of life in his chest. They continued to pass the bottle, sipping carefully from their reposed positions.

 

“T’be honest, I ain’t ever understood what ya saw in’im…” Bado sighed, tongue loosened and restraint all but vanished. Frey blinked at the ceiling.

 

“He’s a’good person… jus’ sucks at stuff w’th people…” She sighed. “I jus’ wish he could be happy w’thout me.”

 

“He can.” Bado said simply. Everything was so clear to him right now… it was all so easy. Frey turned and looked at him. “S’the _only_ way he can, actually.”

 

“What’re you talkin’ about?” She mumbled, confusion written on her face.

 

“S’like this…” He said, and took another swig, “Y’can be happy _with_ somebody, like… yer happy that yer with’m… but y’can’t _make_ some’ne happy an’ they can’t _make_ you happy, either. “ He gestured in the air above them with one big hand. “Y’gotta figure out ‘ow t’be happy jus’ as’ya are. Can’t hang it on some’ne else or ya jus’ putt’n pressure on ‘em and makin’ problems.”

 

“…but ‘ere I am puttin’ all my trouble on you…” She sighed sadly.

 

“S’okay t’ave help, li’l lady.” He said, turning his head and looking into her drooping eyes. She was well and truly drunk already, and he wasn’t too far behind… “Yer special t’me… I wanna ‘elp if’I can.” It was too much and some part of his brain still knew that, but who _cared_ right now… wasn’t it better to just be _honest_ about his feelings?

 

“ _You’re walking a dangerous line…”_ The part of him that could still think struggled to reach him, “ _She needs you right now as a friend. Don’t you go and chase her. Don’t be just another man who wants something from her.”_

 

The thought slowed everything down again. He wasn’t past the point of no return yet, so he set down the bottle, blinking at the ceiling.

 

“ _That’s right…”_ He thought, “ _This ain’t about me.”_

 

 _“_ You’re better ‘n anyone gives’ya credit for…” Frey sighed. She rolled onto her side and wiggled herself over the stones until she was nestled close beside him, resting her head on his arm like a pillow. “C’n I jus’tay ‘ere w’th’you?” Her sleepy voice slurred, close enough for her breath to tickle his ear. He shivered slightly, blood stirring even despite the alcohol acting as a depressant. He couldn’t let her stay here all night… not with how sad and lost she was. Given the whole gamut of his feelings for her, that would only be taking advantage of her pain. Plus, it would make trouble with the townsfolk if it looked like…

 

The big dwarven man swallowed, trying feebly to shove away his desire. Frey murmured sleepily and snuggled closer, resting a limp hand on his shoulder and breathing soft and slow, her eyes closed in a delirious slumber.

 

“ _Don’t you dare read into this.”_ Bado admonished himself. “ _She’s drunk and upset and worn out. None of this means she wants you that way.”_

 

Still, though… here she was, so he’d allow himself to savor the simple closeness for a little while.

 

“Please…c’n’I stay…” She mumbled, fingers curling, gripping the fabric of his shirt. He swallowed, carefully schooling his thoughts to harbor only platonic affection for this beautiful creature nestled close beside him. He managed to succeed, mostly…

 

“Fer a spell…” He whispered, turning his head slightly to watch her sleepy face as she ‘hmmed’ a grateful note and relaxed further into dreaming.

 

   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve seeded this fic with a lot of Bado backstory stuff, but did you know it is in-game canon that Bado drinks the favorite liquor of his best friend? If you click on the bottle on his table while he is in his room, he has a dialogue string about it. Put that together with Forte & Kiel’s marriage event and how it all fleshes out the fact that Bado was close friends with their dad, and you have t conclude that his ‘best friend’ could only have been their dad, since he never mentions any other friend. I’m fascinated by these tidbits the writers of the game left about these tertiary characters’ relationships so of course I have to incorporate them. I hope these historical breadcrumbs are fun for you to read, too!
> 
> I really like how this chapter turned out. I hope you enjoy it a lot, too!


	10. The Challenger

Bado waited as long as he dared, watching Frey breathe as she dozed in her alcohol-numbed sleep, head resting on his arm on the bare stone floor of his workshop. The buzz of the liquor he’d drank gradually faded enough to return his worries to him. He needed to take her home. She didn’t need any more drama… like waking up in an older man’s bed, even if he did sleep on the floor.

 

He carefully sat up, pulling her to him until the whole of her small person was cradled in his thick arms. Then he stood, lifting her gingerly with him. She murmured and clung sleepily to his shirt again with her slender little hand, the fabric still slightly damp from his walk in the rain. He looked through the small ventilation window in the workshop. The rain had ceased for the moment, fortunately. It would still be very chilly out, though. He wavered for a moment, then decided what he’d better do.

 

He carried her slowly to his room on the other side of the shop, lay her down gently upon his bed, and pulled on a coat. Rummaging in a cupboard, he came up with a dusty blanket, old and tattered but warm nevertheless. He returned to the bedside and paused a moment to enjoy the sight of her sweetly curved form sleeping peacefully in his bed. Ah, would that she belonged here with him... He sighed softly, carefully bundled her in the blanket, and lifted her up in his arms once more.

 

All was silent as he carried Selphia’s princess home in the dark of night, save for the rainwater dripping front he eaves of every building they passed. Blessedly, he encountered no one, finally arriving at the door to the castle in the East wing where she lived in the lap of luxury in exchange for her tireless efforts in all her duties and responsibilities as the town’s designated royal personage.

 

Carefully balancing her limp form, he shifted just enough to try the door handle. Locked. He frowned. What now? He held her tightly to his chest with one great arm and knocked on the sturdy wood of the castle door.

 

Almost immediately he could hear footsteps approaching. The door latch clicked and the whole thing swung open to reveal the tall, bulky form of Volkanon, Frey’s primary butler and the caretaker of the castle and the dragon god who lived therein.  The older man gave a startled glance at Frey’s unconscious face, then looked Bado up and down with a suspicious air, eyes blazing.

 

“Wha—”

 

“She’s alright. Just worn out.” Bado said quickly, holding out his arms and proffering her unconscious form to the other man. Volkanon reflexively reached out and accepted the delicate burden into his own huge arms. He met Bado’s eyes once more and the blacksmith saw confusion in them now. “Aaand maybe a little drunk…” He admitted. Volkanon’s eyes flashed. Bado shrugged. “Sorry.”

 

Really, what was the point of explaining? If Volkanon suspected him of anything nefarious he wasn’t going to convince him otherwise just by telling him he was innocent. He opted to trust that the man would hear all that he needed to in his voice, and implored him:

 

“Take good care of her.” He said softly, gazing down at her face, still swollen from all her crying earlier, “She’s been through a lot lately.” When he glanced back up at Volkanon he saw a confused blend of emotions in the older man’s eyes. He was clearly still suspicious, but there was no anger there. At least he hadn’t assumed the worst. Bado nodded to the butler, who returned the gesture, and turned to go.

 

“Sir…” Volkanon’s deep voice called after a moment. Bado paused and turned to regard him. “What are your intentions?” Bado blinked at the man. How very direct. He chewed his lip.

 

“Can you ever really trust the answer to a question like that?” He said, finally. If he really were wicked, he would only lie about it, after all.

 

Volkanon gave one deep nod, stony face serious.

 

“I know you will not lie to my face. You’ve never been capable of doing that.” He said simply. Bado blinked at the man, surprised. Volkanon maintained his serious expression, but there was something a little softer about it now. “Butlers who really know their work can often go unnoticed, but I should not think you have forgotten completely. I was there when Tristan brought you home from the war like a wounded dog at his side.”

 

The big dwarven blacksmith flinched. Even after all these years, it was painful to be reminded of what he’d once been. The butler had a point, though… he _had_ known him quite a few years by now.

 

“Right…” He said, low.

 

“I’ll ask once more… what are your intentions, regarding miss Frey?” He asked, that dangerous edge returning to his voice. Bado stared at the unconscious woman in the big butler’s arms and sighed sadly.

 

“Just tryin’ my best,” He said, “T’be the friend she needs right now.” Volkanon stared at him for another few moments, then nodded in acknowledgment.

 

“Thank you for bringing her home.” He said, finally. Bado nodded, turned, and began the trek home.

 

* * * * *

 

Dylas, fisherman, waiter, amateur cook, and former guardian of the water temple’s confluence of rune energy, hesitated outside the East castle door.  

 

_“Just go in. She's your fiancé. You should be able to just go in and talk to her.”_ He thought, shifting his weight as he rallied himself. After his proposal had become so… _public_ , he had dragged her out to the lake and told her about his past. Now… well, now he’d shared so much and she’d said so little to him about it all… he was beginning to wonder if he was crazy or something.

 

She felt… _different_ to him as they’d parted ways at the lakeshore. Frey, the open-hearted, generous, and loving person who had managed to break through his shell and bring out the best in him… for once he’d looked at her and felt none of her warmth and spirit wash over him.  

 

“ _Don’t worry about it… that was a lot you dropped on her yesterday. Just go in and talk to her.”_ His hand twitched before the door, but faltered once more as a different part of his inner voice murmured darkly: “ _Or maybe you ruined everything…”_

 

Dylas growled aloud in frustration, shook his head sharply, tossing his long hair back and forth, and seized the door handle. As he thrust the door open he forced himself to hold his head up. He would not cower before that part of him. Frey loved him. She knew he was a clumsy idiot, especially with words and feelings and stuff. She’d know better than to write him off for a mistake so typical of his personality.

 

He stopped short as he passed inside her quarters. Nine thirty in the morning and still so dark and quiet? Frey never overslept… not like this. He cautiously crept forward, instinctively hushing in the quiet room.

 

A muffled groan came from the direction of her bed in the corner of the room on the left. The blankets rustled, and a form turned itself over beneath them.

 

“Frey?” Dylas called.

 

* * * * *

 

Frey groaned as awareness inflicted itself upon her again. Her head throbbed and her stomach protested.

 

“ _What in the hell happened to me?”_ She thought. Memory flooded back to her, hazy and hard to focus on in places. She’d passed out drunk on Bado’s workshop floor.

 

“ _No… not on the floor, on HIM.”_ She squeezed her eyes shut, nausea and embarrassment mingling in her belly. “ _What is wrong with me?”_ He must have brought her home eventually. Yes, it was coming back in glimpses. A rough wool blanket wrapped around her… his strong arms holding her to his chest as he carried her… the chill autumn air kissing her cheek, waking her enough to look up at his face, tired and worried looking…

 

“ _I’m such an idiot… I’ve put so much burden on him with my problems.”_

 

And yet… the things he’d said last night… through the fog of her hangover his voice was still clear in her memory:

 

“You’re special to me. I wanna help if I can.”

 

Her cheeks warmed at the memory.

 

“ _You were drunk, though… and he was drunk too. Are you sure you heard what you heard?”_

 

Disappointment closed in on her as she thought it. Disappointment? What? Since when did she have her heart set on Selphia’s lazy blacksmith? This wasn’t who he was to her. He was her goofy, playful friend…

 

“ _But now… now you_ want _him…”_ She gulped, her face growing hot. A frantic wish to deny it seized her, but to whom? What was the point of arguing with a thought that had formed as she had realized the truth of it? She rolled over under the covers, frustrated with herself.

 

“Frey?” Dylas voice intruded on her thoughts and she jolted upright in the bed. A pulse of pain shot through her head and an intense bought of nausea struck her, followed by immediate regret.

 

“Ughhh.” She groaned. Dylas moved to her bedside.

 

“Frey?” He called again, “Are you alright?”

 

“Dylas…” She croaked. “What’re you doin’ here so early?”

 

“Early?” He echoed incredulously, “It’s past nine!” Frey looked up at him with widened eyes. He winced as he saw her.

 

“ _I must look like a wreck…”_

 

_“_ You… don’t look so good…” He said slowly, confirming her suspicions.

 

“Very flattering.” She grumbled, rubbing the heels of her hands in her eyes.

 

“I didn’t mean—” Dylas began hotly. Frey sighed.

 

“I know…” An awkward silence followed. She sat there a few moments, occasionally glancing sideways at her lover, the one she was deceiving every moment she withheld the truth from him. Eventually she let another long, quiet sigh slip out and lay back onto her pillow, wishing her head would stop pounding.

 

“Um… hey, so… can we talk?” He ventured after another beat or two. Frey closed her eyes.

 

“ _What do you want me to say? Just leave me be…”_

 

“About everything, f-from yesterday…”

 

“ _No… I don’t want to do this.”_

 

_“_ Dylas, can we talk later, please? I’m really not feeling well right now.” He stopped short and blinked down at her.

 

“R-right. Sorry. I’ll just… come back later, I guess.”

 

“Yes, please…” She said quietly.

 

“Okay.” He said, nodding, hesitating, then leaning down and planting a quick kiss on her forehead. Her slowed reaction time, courtesy of the hangover, was all that kept her from flinching. “I hope you feel better.” He mumbled, then turned to go.

 

* * * * *

 

Dylas shoved his hands in his pockets and strode out of Frey’s bedchamber, through the elegant castle hallway, feeling out of place, as always. Having no outlet for his anxiety, he’d thought to go find Clorica and make sure she brought Frey some water or medicine or at least a cold, damp cloth for her forehead. He blushed as he remembered the feverish warmth of her skin as he’d bent to kiss her.

 

Seeing her lying there, weakened, vulnerable… it made him want to protect her, stand guard or something… He shook himself.

 

“ _Don’t be stupid. Protect her from what, exactly? Her servants who do everything for her already?”_ He scowled as the blush in his cheeks deepened and quickened his pace, tail lashing.

 

Down the hall he heard a familiar woman’s voice.

 

“—Don’t know…” Clorica was saying to another figure: Vishnal.

 

Finally. He’d make sure those butlers took the best care of his fiancé while she was indisposed. He quickened his pace but stopped in his tracks as Vishnal’s next words drifted into his ears:

 

“She’s never come home drunk before, though… it just worries me. What if he… you know…” The young man was positively squirming, judging by his voice.

 

“ _He? He who?”_ Were they worried he, Dylas, had done something to the princess while she was inebriated? And what was this about her coming home drunk, anyway? He’d never known her to get drunk.

 

“Mr. Volkanon said not to worry about it. If he believes him, so should we. Besides, why would Bado carry her here and give her to Mr. Volkanon if he were guilty of something like that? Don’t you think Mr. Volkanon would have punched his lights out if he had laid a hand on her?”

 

“Well… perhaps you’re right. After all—” Vishnal replied. Dylas couldn’t hear the rest of his words. A rushing sound filled his his ears. His nails dug into his palms as he clenched his fists tightly enough to ache. He saw nothing of what was in front of him. His breath quickened and his thoughts churned.

 

That… that _bastard_ … had he tricked Frey into drinking too much just so he could get an opening to… to…

 

Dylas turned on his heel and bolted for the exit, teeth bared and seeing red.

 

* * * * *

 

Bado sighed aloud as he thought back over the events of the previous night for the hundredth time. Had he made a terrible mistake? What if she was angry with him when she awoke? He’d never known her to be a drinker before, and he hadn’t exactly tried to stop her from going overboard… But, after she’d tossed Dylas’ ring into the fire… well, she just looked like she could use a drink or three. He frowned. Maybe he really had screwed up…

 

BANG

 

The front door slammed open and a bristling, fuming Dylas came barreling into the shop

 

“HEY, ASSHOLE!” He barked, venom in every inch of his posture and every drop of his voice.

 

“ _Gods, this is all I need…”_ Bado thought grimly. He stood his ground, turning to face the younger man glaring daggers at him. He felt a glare of his own take over his face. He couldn't help it. This was the fool who had broken her heart…

 

The former guardian raised his fists, displaying the steel-plated fighting gauntlets that were his weapon of choice. Bado’s eyes narrowed. The half-monster must really want to hurt him…

 

“Put ‘em up!” Dylas ordered. “I’m gonna teach you a goddamn lesson, you filthy bastard.”

 

That old fire kindled to life somewhere deep inside him. The anticipation, the sense of a battle about to start… the enemy before him. How many years had it been since his fighting instincts had been triggered like this?

 

But, no… he was no knight… He was a shopkeeper now, living a peaceful, easy life in this small, quiet town. No more violence… no more pain.

 

“Pick your battles better, dumbass.” Bado growled. “I don’t fight anymore.”

 

Dylas snarled as he struck his fists together in challenge, the knuckles plated in steel ringing.

 

“I think kicking the ass of a guy who’ll get a man’s fiancé drunk for his own purposes is a plenty good fight to be picking.” He spat. Bado glared at the younger man, eyes flashing. He sidestepped the accusation:

 

“She ain’t your fiancé.” He said coldly, “She didn’t say ‘yes’, did she?”

 

“Raaagh!” Dylas screamed and lunged, swinging a wild right hook that connected just at the big blacksmith’s left cheekbone. Bado’s head snapped to the side and he felt his skin split between the metal of Dylas’ gloves and his own bones. Blood flowed freely down the side of his face into the dark beard framing his jaw. The metallic scent, so familiar and so repulsive, all but overwhelmed his senses.

 

Blood… blood and iron and _anger_. He turned his head slowly back to level a murderous look at the once-guardian. Dylas’ furious expression faltered. The younger man paled, almost wilting as he stumbled backward.

 

The man the carefree dwarven blacksmith had been two lifetimes ago stirred from somewhere deep, deep down. The soldier… the _killer_ looked out through his eyes and saw Dylas’ amber eyes widen in fear.

 

He could _break_ this idiot… it would be _so easy…_

 

His big, booted foot thumped upon the stone floor as he took a step toward Frey’s lover. Dylas scrambled backward another pace, but held up his fists anyway, ready to defend. The huge dwarven man stopped as he recognized the fear rising in Dylas’ eyes, his quickened, panting breath.

 

“ _No… this ain’t me… not anymore.”_

 

He stopped moving, closed his eyes, and drew a long, slow breath, counting to ten in his mind.

 

“Not going to fight back?” Dylas growled, some of his earlier confidence returning, “Coward!”

 

The half-monster gasped a strangled yelp as one of Bado’s huge hands shot forward and snatched him by the front of his coat. The burly blacksmith hauled the fool off his feet with one arm and drew him up close to his own face still dripping blood.

 

Blue-gray irises, cold and reflective as steel pierced the amber eyes of the man who’d wasted Frey’s affection.

 

“I can’t fight… cause I’d kill ya…” Bado breathed, low and dangerous, enjoying a spiteful satisfaction as all the moxy drained out of Dylas’ face and the younger man cowered, squirming and prying at Bado’s hand clenched on his clothing.

 

He stepped toward the door, lowering Dylas without releasing him so that the scrambling shoes of the younger man scraped on the floor. He dragged his captive to the entrance, opened the door, and stepped outside. With a swift, careless motion he tossed Dylas out onto his backside and went back inside the ‘Meanderer’ without so much as a glance over his shoulder.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! One of the more intense moments I’ve written! 
> 
> What do you think? Is Bado’s violent past going to be a problem? He’s only ever shown Frey the gentle side oof him, after all. 
> 
> I had a lot of fun with this chapter. I hope you enjoy the bonus art, too!


	11. The Spell

Frey gingerly sipped at the steaming tea Volkanon had passed into her slender hands a moment before. The warmth and comfort of it washed into her and drove away some of the fog and weight that had burdened her all morning. She reached down and adjusted her dress, a pretty blue and brown with a gently flared skirt and half-length sleeves and a low v-cut in the front. Even if she felt like garbage, she could at least prop up her mood by looking cute. 

 

The princess waited patiently for her butler to prompt her. She knew what he would say, of course. Volkanon was always playing the protective uncle to her.

 

“Miss Frey, I hope you will forgive my intrusiveness, but I have been quite concerned. I would like for you to tell me what happened last night. This is very out of character for you.” Volkanon said carefully in his deep, booming voice. 

 

She couldn’t really blame him. And hell, with her head pounding and her heart still a mess, it hardly seemed to matter if she told him or not. Maybe she’d regret it later but right now it felt like the truth wouldn’t hurt. 

 

“I went to visit Bado yesterday evening.” She shrugged. “We talked. He had just brought home a bottle of whiskey he’d been out buying. He offered to share it with me while we talked and I had a little too much. That’s it. You know the rest.”  Volkanon eyed her, clearly concerned and clearly unsatisfied by the explanation. On an impulse, she decided to intercept the inquiry that was surely coming. 

 

“Do you really think Bado would take advantage of me that way, Mr. Volkanon?” She looked into his eyes tiredly. Who could ever believe the big, goofy blacksmith to be that kind of scoundrel? 

 

“Well, no… not as such.” Volkanon admitted, plainly uncomfortable, “But I do think it was rather irresponsible of him to encourage you to drink strong spirits and allow you to drink so much you could not bring yourself home.” 

 

“It was my own fault.” She sighed, “Don’t blame him for my choices. He didn’t do anything wrong.” 

 

“And why  _ did _ you feel so inclined to drunkenness last night?” The butler asked, a little too calmly to be natural. Frey looked up into his eyes, but no words came. She just wasn’t ready to face them… all her friends and neighbors who had been so perfectly willing to leave her to the will of Dylas and his plans for her. As far as they knew she was betrothed, soon to be the bride of an unlikely hero who had once sacrificed himself to save the divine dragon of wind and with her the vitality of all the surrounding lands. What would her faithful butler say if he knew she’d destroyed the ring her paramour had made with his own hands to represent his feelings for her?

 

“You know,” She said, an idea coming into her mind, “I really should go apologize to Bado for inconveniencing him last night.” She rose, tipped her head to the Butler, and turned to go. “We can talk more about this later. Thanks for the tea.” Volkanon rose and bowed in perfect form, ever the master servant. He did not attempt to stop her or even speak a word of protest to her sudden departure. He was, after all, a pure professional. 

 

She left the castle, grumbling as the sunlight attacked her in the town square. Why did everything have to be so bright and loud outside? Hangovers were  _ not _ worth it… 

 

Her feet carried her steadily toward the smithy, nevertheless. By now the path was familiar enough she could probably walk it in her sleep. She let her mind wander as her thoughts oozed to and fro within her head like molasses on a cool day. 

 

She  _ did _ want to apologize to him. It  _ was _ embarrassing that she’d allowed herself to get sloppy drunk in his home. But more than that, it had become something of a reflex for her to reach for him whenever she was uneasy. She felt safe with Bado. He’d never judged her for her feelings. He didn’t blame her for anything that had transpired with Dylas. He didn’t think she was wicked for wanting out… And, best of all, he already knew exactly what was going on with her. She wouldn’t have to explain anything to him, wondering if he’d reject her once he knew. Everyone else was an unknown to her right now. Bado, though… him she knew. 

 

As she rounded the corner, about to step onto the street where the blacksmith lived, she glimpsed a familiar silhouette standing before the smithy, just a smudge of blue and black in the distance. With a gasp she ducked back around the corner and froze. Her head surged with pain and she clenched her teeth, but kept completely silent. What was Dylas doing here? She carefully leaned over and peered around a hedge on the street corner. Her boyfriend was staring at the building, tail lashing in anxiety. He stood that way, hesitating for a long moment. Then he jammed his hands into his pockets and skulked off in the other direction at a brisk pace. Frey sighed with relief and stepped back on to the street once Dylas was out of sight, far down the road heading for Dragon Lake. 

 

“What was that all about?” She mumbled to herself as she approached Bado’s front door. She’d have to ask the blacksmith if Dylas had approached him. Gripping the familiar iron handle she passed through the heavy oak door and stepped inside. 

 

The big, broad form of her friend turned to regard her from where he stood by the shop’s counter and she gasped aloud, head spinning in shock. 

 

“Bado!” She shrilled, “Your face!” Crimson blood, fresh and shining wet, flowed down his left cheek, soaked into the thick, dark hair of his beard, and dripped down onto his coat. He blinked in surprise at her, raising a hand to his cheek and regarding the blood that came away on his fingertips.

 

“Ah,” He said mildly, “Sorry. I haven’t had a chance to clean m’self up yet. Didn’t mean t’scare ya.” 

 

She flowed forward, eyes fixed on his face, brow curved upward with concern. 

 

“What happened?” She breathed, forgetting her pain and fogginess. As she drew closer she could see the open cut across his cheekbone. She cringed, hands itching to reach for him, to do  _ something _ to help. 

 

“Oh, don’t worry about me.” He said, smiling a small, lopsided smile at her. “I’ve had plenty worse, don’cha fret.” 

 

Suddenly understanding shifted into place in her mind. Dylas’ furious posture outside the door a moment ago… 

 

“Did Dylas do that to you?” She squeaked, face bending into a pained, guilty expression. Bado’s eyes widened briefly, then he looked away, refusing to answer. She knew by now this could only mean a ‘yes’ he wasn’t willing to admit to. 

 

She reached out, stretching up onto her toes, and gently turning him back to face her with her fingertips brushing his face despite the blood. His blue-gray eyes met her green ones and he waited, uncertain. 

 

“Tell me.” She pleaded, brow bent. He sighed, gently taking her outstretched hand and holding it in his big, rough one between them. He tugged a pocket handkerchief out of one of his vest pouches and cleaned the blood from her fingertips. Then he wiped quickly at the blood on his face and in his beard. It didn’t make him presentable exactly, but at least he wasn’t dripping anymore. He deposited the kerchief on the counter top and looked down at his hands for a beat or two before speaking, low and reluctant: 

 

“Yeah, he was here. Pissed off that you were here drinkin’ with me last night, by the sound of it. I tossed him out on his rear end.” He added, looking guilty. 

 

“He hit you for that?” She asked, wincing. He chewed his lip and glanced away again, giving the barest nod. Frey’s eyes burned and she cringed. After all he’d done for her recently, all his patience and kindness to her… 

 

“I’m sorry.” She gasped, tears spilling out and rolling down her cheeks.

 

“What for?” He asked, a gentle laugh somewhere in his voice. She wiped at her eyes with the heel of one hand. 

 

“It’s my fault.” She squeaked, ashamed. 

 

“No it ain’t.” He breathed, lifting a big hand to her chin and trying to coax her into meeting his eyes. She shook her head. 

 

“It  _ is. _ None of this is your problem. It’s my drama and it’s gotten you hurt.” 

 

“Frey.” He said, voice firm this time. The surprise of his sudden shift of tone was enough to reclaim her eye contact this time. He stared into her eyes, looking determined… passionate, even. “ _ Don’t _ you try and take responsibility for what Dylas does.” 

 

“But—”

 

“No buts.” He said, cutting her off. “You didn’t do this. You didn’t hit me and you didn’t make him do it.” She looked down, sniffling. 

 

“Okay…” Her voice was no more than a ghost, but she acquiesced, leaning forward and resting her forehead against his broad chest.

 

“ _ I don’t deserve you…”  _ she thought as more tears spilled out.

 

“Good girl.” He said, moving the hand that had been beneath her chin to stroke her hair, the other rising to her back to hold her gently to him. She probably shouldn’t be doing this. Having this kind of contact with him would only make things more complicated. Still, she was always so drawn to him. It was far too hard to resist when she was in pain and he offered comfort so willingly. 

 

“ _What the hell are you?”_ She thought, cheeks practically burning, “ _When_ _I came in here you were dripping blood but now you’re the one comforting me again…”_ The princess rallied herself and looked up at him once more. 

 

“Will you let me heal the cut, at least?” She asked. He blinked down at her. 

 

“Ya mean like, with magic?” There was something oddly reluctant in his voice. She nodded. “Er… well, I appreciate the thought, but…” He trailed off, sounding embarrassed. A slight wince had made its way into his expression. 

 

“What’s the matter? It won’t hurt.” She promised. He chuckled. 

 

“It ain’t that. I, uh… Well, magic and me don’t mix well, y’see.” He admitted, sounding abashed. “So, it probably wouldn’t work.” 

 

“What do you mean, you don’t mix well?” She asked, tilting her head. 

 

“I mean I was born with a fairly strong resistance to magic. Not all dwarves have it, but it’s a lot more common with us than the other races.”

 

“I’m a pretty strong caster.” She said tentatively. Earthmates were the best natural conduits for rune energy, and therefore the magical arts were a particular strength of hers. “May I try, please? I want to make this right, even if it wasn’t my doing.” 

 

Bado stared at her, drawing in a long breath and holding it for a few beats. She stared up at him, anxious. She just wanted to be able to do  _ something  _ for him after all that he’d given her of late. 

 

“Well, alright… I suppose we can try if you really want to.” He  sighed. “Just don’t be surprised if it doesn’t work.” 

 

“Thanks.” She said, smiling in what she hoped was an encouraging way. “Could you sit down please? It’s a little hard to reach you up there.” She added, smirking. The big blacksmith blushed, but moved to the bench in his workshop to do as she asked. Frey followed him, buoyed by his agreement. 

 

As he sat down and looked up at her, the butterflies in her stomach returned, just like before when he had squeezed her hand. She shoved the nervous, giddy feeling down and raised her hands to either side of his bearded face. 

 

“Ready?” She asked. He nodded, swallowing. Drawing a long, slow breath, she gathered her energy and weaved together the spell in her mind. Her bare fingertips gingerly touched his face and the magic sparked and roiled within her as she hit something like a wall inside him. He really wasn’t kidding about his natural resistance. She furrowed her brow, concentrating. He watched her face carefully as she attempted to sink the magic into him with her will. Her hands pressed a little more firmly to his skin now; she pushed the spell a little harder, allocating a little more power. 

 

Bado tensed in her grip, his own eyes fluttering closed and his expression becoming strained. 

 

“ _ Almost…”  _ She thought, determination rising inside her, “ _ Just a little more…”  _ She sucked in a deep breath and held it tight in her chest, giving the spell one more burst of rune energy as she aimed her will at that invisible wall. 

 

“Ungh!”

 

Bado grunted as the spell broke through and all Frey’s gathered magic flooded into him. The huge man went instantly limp and slumped forward into her arms. She gasped, frantically clutching him with her slender hands to keep his enormous person from toppling onto the floor. His face pressed into her chest as she struggled with his weight, pulling another gasp from her lips.

 

“B-Bado?” She squeaked, cheeks absolutely on  _ fire  _ as she felt his bearded face sink into her cleavage via the low cut of her dress. She trembled as her smaller frame struggled to support the weight of her suddenly unconscious friend. A long moment passed as her mind struggled feebly to think of what to do.  

 

The big dwarven man stirred, groaning softly into her chest. His hands fumbled at her sides, squeezing her as he struggled to come to. 

 

“E-easy, big guy.” She stammered, mind reeling. Finally, she felt him regain his balance and she gingerly released him as he held himself upright, eyes dazed and dilated. 

 

“Hey,” She called, growing worried as she looked into those drooping eyes. 

 

“F-Frey?” He mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking himself. 

 

“Hey, take it easy. Don’t fall.” She said, worry coming back into her voice as she reflexively grabbed at his shoulders to help steady him. He blinked his eyes open with an effort and lucidity returned to them. A jolt went through him as he looked at her with wide eyes, his hands squeezing her hips where they’d come to rest on sheer reflex. She let out a little ‘eep’ of surprise and mirrored his wide-eyed expression. 

 

“I—” He faltered, eyes darting down her figure and finding his hands on her. He just sat there, frozen for a beat, his face and ears shifting to a vivid red. His eyes snapped up to meet hers again and she saw in them the look of someone caught in a crime. His right ear twitched once, twice… 

 

Something stirred in the middle of all her jumbled emotions. His big hands, warm and firm on her hips… the deep flush across his handsome face. Her mind quickly painted a different context for these, and a different kind of heat flared within her. Frey stared into his eyes, her own burning with a question some part of her had already been craving to ask even as the rest of her denied it. 

 

Suddenly mastering himself, Bado’s hands gripped her tightly for one heartbeat then released her as he pulled away.

 

“I-I’m sorry, Frey. I wasn't tryin’ to— I didn’t mean to—” He leaned backward against the workshop table, panting and shaking his head and gripping the edge of the bench in his big hands. 

 

“Hey,” She called, “It’s okay. It’s okay. You blacked out for a moment there. Are you alright?” A very earnest worry laced her voice. 

 

“I dunno. I think so…” He breathed, still sounding shaken. Remembering the reason he’d found himself momentarily robbed of his faculties, Frey reached a hand out and touched gently at his jawline, turning his face as he tamely followed her touch. 

 

The cut was gone; only a streak of slightly more reddened skin evidenced it had ever been there at all. Relieved beyond words, Frey leaned in, looking closely and softly trailing a delicate finger over the place that would have born the scar. Thank the heavens; If his face had been permanently scarred because of her involvement with him lately… She gave a trembling sigh, her shoulders dropping as one part of her worries slid from them. 

 

As she leaned back again, pulling her face away from his, realization snapped into place as his surprised expression met her gaze. She blushed profusely; now it was her turn to be embarrassed. 

 

“S-sorry.” She said breathlessly, “I’m just— I’m really glad you’re okay.”

 

“Sorry for scaring you.” He said quietly, still staring at her as if he were waiting to see something more.

 

“You did try to warn me.” She said, laughing abashedly and tucking a piece of hair behind one ear. “I’m sorry I knocked you out for a second.”  

 

Now he huffed a single syllable of laughter. 

 

“I should tell Dylas you heal harder than he punches.” He smirked mischievously. She sighed. 

 

“Thanks for not hitting him back.” She said quietly. He looked down again and nodded. 

 

“Sure thing.” 

 

“Bado, I’m sorry about last night…” She added suddenly, remembering at last why she’d come. He looked up at her, surprised. 

 

“Last night? What for?” 

 

“I put you through a lot of trouble, all because I let myself get too drunk. You even had to carry me home…” She fidgeted with the hem of her dress, twisting the fabric around her fingers.

 

“You’re no trouble, Frey.” He said, smiling his lopsided smile at her. 

 

“Hey, I thought you couldn’t lie to people’s faces.” She sighed, a faint smile on her lips.

 

“I can’t.” He confirmed, raising his eyebrows. “I didn’t mind. Honest.” A blush crept into her cheeks as smile lines creased his. The face of her goofy friend had become something she could barely look at without a flood of feelings she couldn’t easily sort through. She stared at him, feeling lost. A long moment stretched between them. She searched his pale, slightly metallic eyes, and he met her gaze as he read her reactions. Suddenly a new temptation began to whittle away at her restraint: what would Bado, the person she’d come to rely upon most, say to her newfound feelings if he caught wind of them? Her tongue decided to find out before her brain could catch up.

 

“Why are you so kind to me?” She asked softly. It was obviously a rhetorical question but the big man answered anyway. 

 

“Because you deserve it.” He said without any hesitation, deep voice humming in her chest as she heard his words. Her throat tightened and she blinked rapidly, pushing down yet another bought of tears. Honestly… was crying all over him all she would ever do? 

 

He just kept saying these things. And now her heart just kept fluttering and her thoughts just kept wandering... Not long ago she’d assured herself she wasn’t falling in love with the blacksmith. Now, well… what would be the point of lying to herself about it?

 

She looked up at him once more, green eyes meeting blue-gray.

 

“And just how was I ever supposed to want to mend matters with my boyfriend when you treat me so much better?” She said levelly, knowing she was stepping over a line. Bado returned her gaze, unwavering. His brows lifted slightly as he took her meaning. 

 

“ _ I don’t know if you want me…”  _ The princess of Selphia thought tiredly, “ _ But I’m a little too worn out to be cautious anymore…”  _ Waiting and hinting and wondering whether all his care and kindness and sweet words meant anything more than a  _ remarkably _ generous friendship… No, she would not live out that scenario. Everything lately had exhausted her beyond the fear of rejection. Better to know now than live in suspense. 

 

Bado’s throat moved as he swallowed. His lips parted and he spoke in a roughened, faint version of his usual resonant basso: 

 

“Well… I did tell ya he never deserved ya…”

 

Frey’s heart pounded as Bado’s eyes flicked downward, lingering at her lips before they returned to her gaze, a familiar question burning in them… 

 

“ _ I want… I want to kiss you.”  _ The thought crystallized as her heart hammered in her chest. Her desire for the man before her blazed in perfect clarity. Amid all the uncertainty and anxiety she’d suffered the past few days, the surety of this feeling was an elixir that revived her: mind, body, and soul. She leaned forward, hands resting once more on his broad shoulders, feeling the sinews shift beneath her fingers as his own hands carefully came to rest at her sides. 

 

She drew close, trembling… close enough to feel his breath upon her lips as he whispered: 

 

“Frey… are you sure you want this?” 

 

She hesitated as his words hit her ears. 

 

Yes.  _ Yes,  _ by all the gods and native dragons there were… but why was he asking that now, just a finger’s width away form kissing her? She waited, looking into his eyes and squeezing his shoulders.

 

“You don’t owe me anything…” He continued. She leaned back, brow furrowing in concern. Bado mirrored her worried expression and drew in a deep breath. “I swear to you, Frey… these past days… everything I’ve said… It ain’t been for an agenda.” 

 

“I know that…” She murmured.

 

“And… even if this is only a rebound, I’ll be whatever you need. I just gotta know it’s what  _ you _ want.” 

 

“Stop it…” She breathed, closing her eyes. “Stop talking like you don’t matter…” 

 

“I just wanna be good to ya, Frey. You’ve had enough of bein’ tossed around by a man already.”

 

“You’re different.” 

 

“I’m just a different kind o’ fool, sweetheart.” He murmured, “I  _ know _ Dylas never deserved ya, but I ain’t at all sure I do, either.” 

 

Frey opened her eyes and stared into the storm-tossed sea of his blue-gray irises. 

 

“All I need to know,” She said slowly, “is whether you want me.” He stared into her eyes, his big hands squeezing her gently as a helpless hint of a smile tugged on his lips.

 

“Since the day I first saw ya…” 

 

A bloom of warmth and longing burst within her, slowing her breath to a trembling gasp as she moved. Her lips met his in a fractured moment of stopped time, breaking through the bindings of social decorum just as she’d broken through his resistance to magic. In one infinitesimally small space of time, she split her life into two; there was Frey before this kiss, and there was her after. The man before her, hands on her waist, scruffy, bearded face brushing hers, accepted her tentative plea through the touch of her lips then gave her his answer with his own. In the breath that followed, Frey became that second her, leaving behind what she’d been and plunging into the her from now on: the her who  _ knew _ what she wanted and dared to ask for it.

 

As if unleashed, she pressed her mouth eagerly to his, letting go of every pain and worry that had dogged her the past few days. She kissed him without reservation, drinking in the warmth and presence of the man who’d held her in her tears and kept her from vanishing. The one who saw her when no one else seemed to… She moaned softly against his mouth as the fire within her pleaded for him. 

 

The big dwarven man pulled her closer, wrapping his thick arms about her as he returned her fevered kisses. His movements described a long-starved passion but his touch never roughened into desperation. He’d waited this long, after all. Clearly his patience had not been nearly exhausted yet. 

 

The deep, rich tone of his voice as he echoed her soft moan singed the edges of her restraint, the flame within her burning higher. Every day she’d bore with the irritable, aloof Dylas seemed an abominable waste to her now. If she’d known she could have fallen into the arms of a gentle, attentive man who all this time had treasured her friendship above his desire for her, would she ever have coaxed a single kiss from the once-guardian’s lips? 

 

She whimpered at the turning of their heads as their lips caressed one another again and again. He squeezed her as he heard the sound. She parted her lips, her face burning with the heat inside her, and flitted the tip of her tongue against his mouth on the next beat. His own lips parted and he tilted his head as he pressed her mouth with a hum of pure, sweet desire. She slipped her tongue into his mouth and the big man shivered and tightened his grip on her as he mirrored the motion. 

 

Truly in this moment the princess of Selphia had no intention of holding back. She’d let the notoriously lazy blacksmith take her to  _ bed _ if he wanted to. Her gratitude and sense of connection to him left no room for hesitation, consequences be damned. If she could trust him to carry her gently across town when she’d drank herself stupid, she could trust him with this too. The emotional intimacy he’d already granted her paved the road upon which they currently ran pell-mell with no fear of misstepping. All that remained was to explore him, eagerly feeling her way toward the limits of what he was ready to give her. 

 

Her hands slid up the back of his neck and into his dark, tousled hair, dragging her nails lightly against his scalp. He moaned softly within the kiss, his deep voicing of pleasure humming though her too. Lips curling up into a smile, she let out a small, muffled giggle. How like being reborn anew, to feel such joy again after so many days living sunken in confusion and sorrow. Gods and dragons, it felt  _ so good _ …  _ He _ felt so good… 

 

Bado mirrored her smile and squeezed her, letting his eyes close and his shoulders droop with a relieved sigh. 

 

“Gods, Frey… it feels like I’been waiting years t’hear ya laugh again.” The big man whispered, pulling her into a long hug with his huge arms wrapping her tightly to his broad chest. She tried to return the hug as firmly as her own slender arms could manage. 

 

“It feels like I’ve been waiting years for  _ you _ …” She returned, murmuring very close to his pointed ear. A shiver ran through the big dwarven man and she leaned back, searching his face. 

 

Bado looked down, licking his lips and swallowing as if his throat had closed. When he spoke, his voice was faint… strange and insubstantial coming from his barrel-chested frame. 

 

“You’re gonna shake me t’pieces, sayin’ things like that.” He rasped, finally looking sheepishly at her, his head still tilted downward. “I told ya I ain’t been wanted like this for a dog’s age, Frey. It’s a lot to take in.” 

 

“You started it.” She murmured, smirking mischievously at him. “I can’t be the only one always falling apart because of the sweet things you keep telling me. It wouldn’t be fair.” 

 

“Heh. In other words, yer tellin’ me ya reap whatcha sow, eh?” He said, grinning that same old uneven smile of his. Her spirit buoyed upward, feeling as if it might lift her right up off her feet.

 

“Something like that.” She hummed, leaning in to kiss him again. “And, if you’re so rusty, we’d better practice some more, wouldn’t you say?” She plucked at his lips with hers and nuzzled his bearded jaw, reveling in his unsteady breaths, the obvious desire in the posture and movement of his body, so warm and  _ big _ and close. Pressing herself against him, she set her hands at either side of his face, pulling him into another passionate exchange of kisses. Her fingers brushed his delicately pointed ears, so strangely juxtaposed with the rest of his butch visage. They warmed beneath her fingertips, the left one twitching as she’d seen it do before when she’d put him off-balance with her flirting. Now she felt his breath shorten and his movements grow hungrier. His big hands stroked up her back, over her shoulders and down her sides again until they resettled about her hips and gripped her firmly. She grinned wickedly, understanding clicking into place. Leaning in close to his right ear, she traced a fingertip up and down the blade of the left as she murmured: 

 

“I guess it’s been a while since someone did this either, huh?” She dragged the tip of her tongue along the edge of his ear, all the way to the point. Bado’s breath became a hiss and a visible shiver passed through him. He gripped her arms and leaned back, practically panting. 

 

“Y-you… really move quick when you wanna, huh, Frey?” He gasped, eyes dilated so much that only a narrow band of his metallic irises flashed around dark pools of desire.  “Even if you look like a daisy, you’re secretly more of a fireflower, ain’cha?

 

“Patience is not my strong suit.” She replied, still smirking. Then, as the thoughts that had led her to kiss him circled back around, the smirk slid off her face, and she added: “I’ve spent the past week feeling so confused and anxious… can you really blame me for wanting to dive in headlong now that there’s something I feel so very certain of?” She leaned into him again, pressing her body to his without hesitation. With his great height almost halved by his seated position on the bench, his long legs bent and spread to either side of her, she could reach his lips with ease even as her thighs encountered the hardened outline of his manhood when she let her weight settle against him again. The big man flinched, gripping her hips again. This time, however, he gently separated her from himself, holding her body apart from his and searching her eyes, looking concerned once more. She waited as he opened his mouth to speak, taking a breath or two to put his words together. 

 

“I sure hope it goes without sayin’ I’d be over the moon t’sleep with ya, fireflower…” He said carefully, drawing a steadying breath, “But I wouldn’t feel right about doin’ it so soon, so… let’s take it easy, okay?”

 

Frey’s posture collapsed into a cringe, shoulders rounding, her hands drawing away from him, automatically fidgeting with the end of one of her long tails of silky green hair. 

 

“S-sorry.” She breathed, looking anywhere but his eyes, “After all that stuff you said about being a ‘casual kind of partner’ and sleeping around when you travel, I just thought…” She trailed off, wincing. 

 

“ _ Please tell me I did not just ruin this…”  _ She thought desperately, feeling shame creep up the back of her neck. She glanced back at Bado as he spoke. 

 

“I… maybe shouldn’t’a told ya that stuff. I might’a given ya the wrong idea.” He said reluctantly. Now it was his turn to wince. 

 

She withdrew further, swallowing, eyes beginning to burn.  _ “Damnit. Damnit! Not again…” _ why did she always have to be crying when she was with him? Bado’s look of concern deepened, he seized her hands in his and squeezed them, imploring her with his gaze. She reluctantly met his eyes, her chin tucked toward her chest. 

 

“There’s  _ nothing _ casual about what I feel for ya, Frey.” He breathed, voice pained but insistent, “I ain’t about t’get careless with this. So… can ya wait for me so I know I’m doin’ right by ya?” He squeezed her hands again, begging her with his eyes to believe him. She swallowed, eyes closing as a tear ran from each of them. She bit her lip and nodded mutely. 

 

“ _ I don’t deserve you…” _ She thought, again, feeling a strong conviction it wouldn’t be the last time. 

 

“Thank you.” He said, words articulated more carefully than his usual, rough speech, “I promise there’ll be plenty of time later on for us to find ourselves in more  _ intimate  _ circumstances, princess…” Frey drew in a breath as her throat unclenched and bent an eyebrow at him, allowing a wry smirk. 

 

“I am  _ not _ a princess. You know that.” 

 

“No?” He returned, an exaggerated look of interest painted onto his lovely, angular visage, “Well, even if you’re not ‘a’ princess, you can be  _ my _ princess, if ya like.” He grinned at her expectantly. Frey gave a surrender of a laugh, shaking her head. 

 

“Very smooth.” She teased, smiling in spite of herself. 

 

“I try.” He shrugged, playing along with her sarcasm. Then as if she was seeing the troubled thought that flitted into his mind, his expression became fretful once more. “But, uh…” He began, faltering.

 

“What is it?” She asked, a twinge of fear traveling up her backbone. 

 

“Well, I don’t suppose you, uh… told Dylas you ain’t gettin’ married?” He asked reluctantly with an expression like he’d just swallowed a large insect. Frey’s eyebrows tented above her tired eyes. She looked down. 

 

“No…” 

 

“Ah…” He said, waiting awkwardly in the silence following her admission. 

 

“It’s going to crush him…” She mumbled, eyes distant. 

 

“It’s the truth. It already _is_ … you can’t guard him from it forever.” His voice was quiet but unwavering. He was right, _of course…_ but… how was she supposed to look Dylas in the eyes and tell him after all he’d said about her ‘healing his heart’ that she just didn’t want to be with him? She sighed. 

 

“I’m sorry… this isn’t at all fair to you.” She said sadly.

 

Bado squeezed her hands. “Don’t worry so much. I’m good at bein’ patient. You can take a little time to get your head right before ya talk to him about it if ya need to. It’s been a hell of a week. I understand if it feels like too much, just now.” He stroked her slender hands with his thumbs. She nodded. 

 

“You shouldn’t have to wait for me.” She murmured, “I should have told him right away.”

 

“I don’t care so much about ‘should’a’ right now, sweetheart. I know you’ll do what ya need t’do.”

 

“Thanks. I promise I don’t mean to be avoiding it like this… it’s just…” She trailed off, looking glum. 

 

“I know, Frey.” He breathed, voice gentle. “All the more reason you an’ I should wait to get frisky with one another, though. I sure don’t want somethin’ like this hangin’ over ya, makin’ it unpleasant.” Frey nodded, looking down.

 

“Do you want me to leave now?” She asked very quietly. 

 

“Nah, o’course not.” He replied, voice a gentle, quiet rumble. Then he smirked again. “Just cause I ain’t lettin’ ya take my pants off right now don’t mean I want ya gone, fireflower.” 

 

The warmth in her chest rekindled at the nickname. He’d used it twice now. A little embarrassed but plenty pleased, Frey gave him a small, sheepish smile, and let him gather her into his big arms for a hug. 

 

“I know these circumstances are a little strange…” he murmured, “But this is just about the best thing that’s ever happened t’me, Frey. I’d never dared hope you’d want me this way.” 

 

“Well, to be fair I was a bit too dense to realize I do, up until recently.” She admitted. 

 

“I guess that’s  _ one _ good thing to come’a all this unpleasantness with Dylas, at least.” He shrugged. She sighed. 

 

“What do we do now? Even if I leave Dylas, as soon as everyone knows I’m with you right away they’re gonna think I—” She cut off. They’d think what? That she’d betrayed Dylas by getting involved with Bado? 

 

“ _ Well, didn’t you?” _ The thought came, unbidden. “ _ You just kissed a man who isn’t your boyfriend, or fiancé as far as he thinks. You’re a cheat.”  _ She chewed her lip, brows furrowed. 

 

“Hey,” Bado’s deep voice broke into her spiraling thoughts. She blinked, finally seeing his worried expression. He could plainly see the wheels turning in her head. “Stop that. You ain’t a bad girl, Frey. Love is just messy sometimes.” 

 

“ _ Love? Does he  _ love  _ me?”  _ She blinked at him. 

 

“I’ve done wrong by kissing you while I’m still in a relationship with Dylas, but at the same time it feels like the rightest thing I’ve ever done.” She murmured, smiling sheepishly. 

 

“I sure ain’t complainin’” Bado said with a crooked grin. 

 

“If I don’t even feel sorry for… for cheating on him,” She forced herself to say it. At minimum she had to face what she’d done. Nothing else would be fair to Dylas, no matter what he’d done to lose her favor. “Doesn’t that mean I  _ am _ wicked?” 

 

Bado looked thoughtfully at her, tilting his head with a fretful, contemplative expression. 

 

“It ain’t an ideal situation, that’s for sure.” He admitted, “But, well… you’ve already decided the relationship with him is over, so it makes sense it wouldn’t feel like a crime to you.” 

 

“All the same,” She insisted, “He’ll be even more crushed if he finds out.” 

 

“All the more reason to tell him you’re out as soon as possible.” Bado said warningly, “Even without my involvement, this was already gonna be worse for both o’ ya the longer ya wait.” Frey sighed, looking down and knowing he was right again. 

 

“Even if that did make you wicked, though,” He added, voice full of warmth, “I’d still take ya just as y’are.” She smiled at him, feeling almost  _ painfully _ smitten. 

 

“If only I’d really  _ seen _ you sooner.” She said quietly, looking into his blue-gray eyes, drinking in the sight of him. 

 

“It was worth the wait.” He said, smirking at her. 

 

“Thank you.” She breathed, hugging him tightly again. Then, feeling a modicum of courage thanks to his reassurances, she steeled herself and stepped back. “I think… I think I’m going to go try and talk to him.” She said, feeling parts of her begin to shake at the idea. Bado nodded slowly. 

 

“Good luck. Wish I could help, but, uh…” 

 

“You’ve been punched enough already today.” She countered with half a laugh. “If it’s alright, though, I’ll come by later tonight? I promise not to try and seduce you.” She added, grinning. 

 

“Heh! Yeah, alright. Sounds good.” He said, looking fondly at her from where he still sat on the bench. “I’m probably gonna just take it easy the rest of the day. Best not to push my luck since I blacked out, earlier.” 

 

“Sorry…” She hurried to say.

 

“Don’t be.” He chuckled, “If it leads to kissin’ you can knock me out any time.” She smirked, still embarrassed, but soothed by his good humor. 

 

“I’ll see you tonight, then.” 

 

“Yeah, see you soon.” He murmured, watching her face. She hesitated, then leaned in to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. Embarrassment still bubbled in her belly at having been so eager to venture into a sexual encounter with the man only to be rebuffed on account of it being too fast for  _ him _ . She would take care not to be so aggressive again until he gave her some indication he was open to it. He gripped her slender hand gently in his big, work-roughened one as she drew close to him once more. The touch sent a thrill, almost like a pulse of electricity, through her.

 

“Bye, Bado.” She murmured, turning to go. Their hands remained clasped until they had to let go for her to actually leave. When he finally did release her, their fingertips slid over one another and lingered in the touch before falling away from each other. As Frey stepped out into the cold autumn air, the warmth within her remained, undaunted by the chill. Now something glowed within her in defiance of all that had pulled her down and smothered her spirit these last days. He wanted her. He saw her and he listened to her  _ and _ he  _ wanted _ her! 

 

“ _ I have been such a fool.” _ She thought, grinning at no-one as she made her way through the streets of Selphia. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my GOSH I have been anxiously awaiting the day when I could share this chapter with you guys! Always such a treat when they finally kiss. I hope you enjoy the scene. I also have SUCH fun embarrassing Bado in my stories bwahaha! Poor magic-resistant fool. Let me know what you think of how the scene turned out! <3 
> 
> I also did my best to prepare an extra special art treat to go along with this extra special chapter~ I hope you enjoy them both!


	12. The Extra

Doug, amateur fighter, grocery boy, stray dwarf, and  _ hopeless idiot _ , sighed heavily for the hundredth time since dawn. 

 

Married… Dylas was getting  _ married _ . That hay-brained idiot who didn’t even know how to smile on purpose… had left him behind.

 

Doug had come to this town with nothing other than a frantic desire for vengeance… vengeance that had turned out completely misplaced. He’d been wrong about the Native Dragon that dwelt here just as he'd been wrong about everything. He was such a screw-up, but still the people in this town cared for him, accepted him. And,  _ he _ had appeared: another screw-up who couldn’t do a damn thing right, at first. They’d butted heads from the very first moment. Perhaps he had simply resented Dylas for being the same kind of moron as him, letting his self-loathing bleed out onto the one other person in Selphia who couldn’t seem to fit in with all the happy, kindhearted townsfolk. But, damn them all, they’d embraced him, too! And that cantankerous, irritable fool had even found love… with a gods-damned  _ princess! _ What the fuck?

 

Seeing Dylas thrive like this, embraced by the town, finding his better self… Didn’t he want that for his…  _ friend,  _ he thought firmly. But, if Dylas could have it so good, if  _ he _ could do all that he’d done and receive all that love… well, that meant Doug should be able to as well, but he hadn’t. 

 

The red-headed dwarf sighed, pointed ears all but drooping with his dismal mood. Granny blossom ‘tsk’ed as she bustled around the shop where he sat at the counter, disconsolate. 

 

“Doug, I know you’re in a bit of a funk today, dear, but could you please lend me a hand with these things?” She tilted her white-haired head toward the bags of rice that needed to be re-shelved. 

 

“Sure thing…” He sighed, low. The old woman blinked at him, straightening up. 

 

“Doug? Are you alright?” She asked carefully in that matronly way of hers. Yes she’d noticed his foul mood right away, but the lack of any back-talk had tipped her off that this was no ordinary slump in his manners. Doug glanced up at her and away, shoulders rounded. 

 

“M’fine.” He muttered, and walked past her to lift the heavy bags of rice into place on the shelf. It was an obvious lie, but there was nothing to be done about it, so why bother explaining himself to anyone? Well, that and other reasons… 

 

The young dwarven man didn’t know of  _ any _ gay couples in Selphia just at the moment. It didn’t mean there weren’t any gay men around, but it might mean Selphia wasn’t a place where he could be what he was. Humans were strange… as far as Doug could tell, they didn’t have any less tendency to be attracted to their own gender, so why were they squeamish about it? He sighed shortly. 

 

“ _ Doesn’t matter anyway. He obviously prefers women anyway.”  _ He thought bitterly. Stupid. Why did he have to be so pathetically stuck on that idiot? And why did Dylas have to be so tall and handsome? And why did he have to have that  _ smile _ ? The real one… the one that made Doug’s legs turn to jelly and his insides squirm every time some real joy seized the once-guardian so his face bloomed in the genuine smile he literally  _ couldn’t _ fake if he wanted to. 

 

“ _ Love is  _ evil _.”  _ Doug thought bitterly, “ _ Why do people fall in love with people who don’t even see them?”  _

 

“Doug,” Granny Blossom interrupted his thoughts, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Is this about yesterday?” She asked gently. Panic rose up in the dwarf’s belly and he roughly shrugged off the old woman’s withered hand. 

 

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” He snapped.

 

“ _ Fuck. Too much.” _ He thought irritably. He couldn’t even  _ hide _ his stupid feelings effectively. Did he have to be so obvious all the time? 

 

“It’s alright, dear. These things happen. We don’t get to choose who we fall in love with.” She said gently, undeterred by his prickly response. Shame and fear and pain tangled together, snarling in his gut. 

 

“I said I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about!” He barked, storming out the front door. 

 

“ _ Damned old bag!”  _ He thought furiously, jamming his hands into the pockets of his coat as he paced quickly westward, desperate to be alone if he really couldn’t help but be so transparent. “ _ Who the hell just says it out loud like that?” _ What gave her the right to drag his stupid unrequited feelings into the light? What was the point? To embarrass him? To prove what a loser he was? 

 

“ _ Stop it… you know she’s just worried about you.” _ The voice of his better nature intruded on his self pity. He growled under his breath. Unable to deny the truth of it, he simply let all the thoughts fall out of his head for a few minutes as his feet thumped on the stones of the wide, flat roads of Selphia. The scent of the lake rode the breeze past him as he walked further and further westward. He just needed to be alone, to  _ think _ for a minute, hopefully get all this crap out of his system so people would stop commenting on his stormy expression. He had to figure out some way of getting over Dylas. He was getting  _ married _ , for gods’ sake! Doug’s feelings were  _ never _ going to be answered. He had to accept it. 

 

Another sigh slipped from his lips as Doug stepped into the open clearing before the shore of Dragon Lake. He’s feet shuffle forward automatically, eyes down on the grass as it grew sparse and sandy the closer he got to the water. Finally he stopped just where the small, wind-blown waves lapped at the shore, the gentle sounds of water and the leaves of nearby trees rustling soothing his low spirits a little. He stared at that blue water, idly imagining he could just walk into it and leave all his worries behind… find some other place on the other side of the shining surface… 

 

“The hell’s eating  _ you _ ?” An oh-so familiar voice called. The words themselves were as belligerent as always, but there was no pepper behind them today. Doug’s eyes snapped upwards and he turned his head to find the very person he so often found himself thinking of,  _ dreaming _ of… 

 

Dylas sat with his elbows on his knees, fishing pole in hand as always, but there was something in his posture… the way his shoulders slumped and he held his head as if it were very heavy. Wasn’t this the man who’d just gotten himself engaged to the town’s princess? Why did he look the way Doug felt inside? The young dwarf blinked at the half-monster. 

 

“Kinda looks like I should be asking  _ you _ that.” He said hesitantly, taking a step or two toward the other man with his long, silvery-blue hair and his shining golden eyes… 

 

“ _ I’m such a chump…”  _ Doug thought as his eyes automatically drank in the sight of his crush, “ _ I’m never gonna be able to stop wanting you, am I?”  _

 

“Tch!” Dylas spat, looking back out over the water. But unlike his usual pattern, he offered no insult, no further resistance. In Dylas’ terms, this was almost  _ begging _ for someone to ask what was wrong. Doug took another few steps and settled down on the sand a little more than an arm’s length from Dylas. 

 

“Thought you’d be on cloud nine today.” He said, leaving space for the half-monster to respond. One of Dylas’ black furry ears flicked irritably, his tail swishing back and forth in an anxious manner. 

 

“Yeah… me too.” He said finally. 

 

“ _ Damn…”  _ Doug thought, his eyebrows climbing higher on his forehead, “ _ He’s really down…”  _ If anyone knew how to read the presence or lack of aggression on Dylas’ part, it was Doug. The redhead simply waited. The lack of a quip from him, too, was a kind of olive branch in their strange friendship. Dylas eventually glanced sideways at him with his golden eyes. 

 

“Whaddayou care anyhow?” He mumbled, still without any bite in his tone. Doug shrugged. 

 

“Ain’t ever seen you so… limp, I guess. You didn’t even call me names. Guess that got me worried.” He said, allowing a very slight smile to tug on his lips. Hadn’t he been a tangled-up mess just now? Why was all of that bad feeling suddenly so distant? Dylas eyed him and gave a short huff of breath that stood in for a laugh. 

 

“Guess I’ll have to think up a good one for later.” He mused, the ghost of a wry smile touching his expression before it collapsed once again into sullenness. 

 

“So, uh… what’s goin’ on, anyway?” Doug ventured finally, encouraged by Dylas’ response. The half-monster sighed heavily, tail twitching again. His ears flattened down against his head and he stared at the water with a tension to his posture. 

 

“I think…” He started to say, pausing to swallow, brows knitted, “I think I might have screwed up… with Frey.” 

 

“ _ Screwed up? Screwed up how? Does he mean he  _ doesn’t _ want to get married after all?”  _ A feral kind of hope, desperate and irrational, sank its claws into Doug’s mind. Could he dare hope it wasn’t over yet? Was there a chance… 

 

“Screwed up how?” Doug asked carefully, forcing his face to be neutral. It took a couple minutes for Dylas to answer. He took his time chewing on his words. 

 

“She didn’t say ‘yes’.” He said slowly. Doug blinked. He hadn’t actually  _ heard _ anything Frey had said during the actual proposal, but he had seen Dylas slip the ring onto her finger. He’d just  _ assumed _ … 

 

“She didn’t?” He echoed, heart racing inside. So it wasn’t Dylas having second thoughts, but still… if there was a chance the marriage wasn’t happening, maybe…

 

Dylas shook his head, face fretful. 

 

“No… she said she needed time to think on it…” Dylas sighed, lifting a hand to rub at the back of his neck as his ears twitched in nervous agitation. “But then… she got drunk last night… was hung over this morning.” 

 

“What?” Doug said blankly. Since when was Frey the type to get drunk? 

 

“Yeah…” Dylas said, a flicker of his own disbelief at the notion crossing his face. “Apparently Bado brought her home last night, blacked out.” 

 

“Bado?” Doug echoed, scrunching up his nose. “The hell? Did he just  _ find _ her passed out or something?” Dylas’ expression grew darker. 

 

“No…” He said, his voice almost a growl. Doug leaned back, looking wide-eyed at the other man. The princess had gotten drunk  _ with _ the town blacksmith? 

 

“Ssso…. You think she’s mad at you because she went and got drunk with Bado?” Dylas didn’t answer, tail lashing. Doug wracked his brain, trying to puzzle it out. Suddenly it clicked and he blushed hotly. 

 

“You think they—” 

 

“No.” Dylas interrupted firmly. He sighed after a beat and spoke more slowly this time, “I don’t think  _ she _ would do that… but… I don’t know about  _ him.” _

 

_ “ _ Bado?” Doug repeated, “D’ya really think he’d would make a pass at her? It’s hard to imagine him goin’ all Casanova on someone…” 

 

“He said somethin’… said she  _ isn’t  _ my fiancé…” 

 

“What?” Doug blurted, shocked. What in hell’s name did Bado have to do with all this? His brain couldn’t keep up with the strange new information. 

 

“I punched him in the face.” Dylas said, a spiteful satisfaction in his voice. 

 

“WHAT?” Doug barked, startling the man he was hopelessly smitten over with the fervor of his outburst. 

 

“What?” Dylas returned, tone defensive. The red head gaped at him, incredulous. 

 

“You can’t mess with that guy like that!” Doug said desperately, impulsively gripping Dylas’ arm in his urgency. 

 

“The hell are you talkin’ about? He’s just a big idiot.” The half-monster returned, pulling his arm from Doug’s grip. 

 

“I know he’s goofy as hell usually, but—” 

 

“I could take him.” Dylas insisted, interrupting. Doug pinched the bridge of his nose. 

 

“No, listen.” He implored, gesturing pleadingly at the other man. “When I was sent here by those empire creeps, you know, to spy on Ventuswill and stuff…” He added, shifting uncomfortably. All the shame from his past treachery while he’d been manipulated by Ethelberd still stung, so freshly bitter in his mind. He shook off the paralysis of that shame as quickly as he could. “Well, there was this old veteran soldier who pulled me aside right before I came to town. He said, ‘there’s a big guy, a dwarf, in that town. He used to be a knight. If it ever comes to lookin’ like he’s gonna fight… you  _ run _ . You run like hell, kid.’” Doug shivered slightly as he remembered the haunted look in that man’s eyes as he’d said the words. 

 

“So what?” Dylas shot back, “You gonna trust some Sechs soldier’s old yarn over your own eyes?” His words were brash but Doug could see the way his tail settled down, curling around against his legs. Even his bestial ears flattened down against his head. The whole of him looked like an animal trying to make itself appear smaller, not fit to be a meal for a predator. Perhaps he  _ had _ seen a glimpse of what that old soldier had been afraid of. Doug shivered again. 

 

“Anyway,” Dylas said darkly, “I think he’s fixin’ to steal her if he can.” Doug blinked rapidly, fighting the urge to laugh out loud. He could see Dylas was genuinely concerned about this but he just couldn’t imagine the lazy blacksmith seducing someone,  _ especially  _ the princess! 

 

“You think so?” Doug said, trying to make his tone light. Dylas nodded. “She’s been going over there to talk to him a lot, apparently. I heard it from Kiel. He saw her go to the smithy every day since…” He trailed off. 

 

“The fight?” Doug ventured. Dylas nodded. 

 

“He was there. He interrupted us when I… well, when I was being stupid. I walked out, but maybe he said something to her after. I dunno. I hadn’t really thought anything of it until she went and got black-out drunk with him…” Dylas explained. Doug marveled momentarily about how much the other man was sharing with him. 

 

“Well, it’s true she wouldn’t normally get drunk…” He allowed, “She doesn’t even buy wine in the store except for recipes. But, she is also friends with everyone in town,  _ including  _ Bado. You can’t really be too surprised if she wanted to talk to a friend while she was upset.” 

 

“I know, but… I just… have a feeling.” The once-guardian said finally, shrugging. 

 

“Well… I guess maybe you should just ask her about it?” The dwarf shrugged. It seemed simple enough. 

 

“What? Why would I do that? She’s already been mad enough at me this week. I’d be pushing her right toward him!” Dylas said in exasperated tones. Doug only shrugged again. 

 

“What else can you do?” 

 

“I’ll try to keep her away from him for now, I guess. I don’t know what he’s been telling her but he obviously has some kinda stake in all this. I should never have left her alone with him to begin with…” He growled, shifting his weight forward onto his feet and standing up tall. Doug stood, too. 

 

“Look, uh… It really ain’t any of my business, but…” He said awkwardly, shifting in place, “I think if she says she needs time, you should probably give her that. If you come in and start telling her who she can and can’t talk to, she’s just gonna be mad.” 

 

“ _ What the hell are you doing, stupid?”  _ Some part of Doug screamed inside, “ _ Don’t be trying to  _ help _ with their relationship!”  _ He couldn’t help it, though. As much as he wanted Dylas, it hurt to see the other man so down in the dumps over his floundering love affair with the princess. The thought of him walking back and getting into another fight with Frey… no, he didn’t want to see Dylas so sad and stressed. 

 

The once-guardian glanced sidelong at Doug, almost glaring. 

 

“You’re right. It  _ isn’t _ any of your business.” He said coldly. Then a flicker of shame crossed his face. His tail lashed back and forth and his ears flipped back again. “But… um, thanks… for before. For listening.” He muttered awkwardly. 

 

Doug’s heart swelled in his chest, fit to burst. He beamed at the other man, then quickly schooled his expression into something more cool, unfazed. 

 

“Sure.” He lifted a hand slightly in a causal gesture of acknowledgement. 

 

“ _ Gods damn my stupid ass.” _ The red-headed dwarf thought, half furious, half giddy. 

 

Dylas gave a grunt that was neither belligerent nor particularly friendly, then turned to go. 

 

_ “This is the first time you’ve had a  _ nice _ conversation with him and you’re just gonna let it end like this?”  _ His inner voice muttered in exasperation. 

 

“Uh, hey!” Doug heard himself call out. Dylas paused, looking back over his shoulder at Doug, raising his brow expectantly. “You can talk to me about whatever, any time.  I don’t mind.” The shorter man blurted out. Dylas’ expression shifted into suspicion, then confusion. Finally, he cautiously leaned away as he looked Doug up and down, seeming almost to question whether he were actually himself. 

 

“‘Kay… um… thanks, I guess.” He said uncertainly, but then a flicker of movement at the corners of his mouth caught Doug’s eyes. The half-monster gave one of his awkward attempts at a mild smile. It looked more like indigestion than anything. But, dragons strike him down, thought Doug, Dylas was  _ trying _ to  _ smile _ at him! He almost fainted on the spot. 

 

As Dylas turned once more, raising a hand briefly in farewell before disappearing along the path back to town, a half-crazed look of wild disbelief stretched his face into a stupid grin. 

 

“Heh… Haha! … HAHAHA!” He laughed aloud, feeling lighter than air. 

 

_ Dylas  _ had  _ smiled _ at him! Sure, it was one of his lousy, forced attempts but by all the divine dragons in Norad, it was more than the young dwarven man had ever hoped to receive.

 

After another moment or two the grin slid off of his face again, though. Dylas had picked a fight with  _ Bado! _ This was getting dangerous. Clearly the big blacksmith’s patience had withstood Dylas’ aggression this time—he was  _ alive _ still, after all—but Doug didn’t like the idea of his crush pushing his luck with that guy. 

 

_ “I’m gonna hafta do something… _ ” he thought, swallowing. It  _ was _ strange that Frey had gotten drunk with the ex-knight. Had it really been her intention? Maybe he could do a little snooping. After all, if Bado really did have designs on Frey, well… it was something someone would need to intervene on. She was pretty damn clueless, after all. Plus if Dylas got wind of it, someone would have to hold him back before he got his ass turned into mincemeat attacking a guy with the kind of reputation the retired knight had. 

 

Doug steeled himself, holding the warmth in his chest tightly as a charm against his trepidation. He didn’t want to find out why that old empire vet had been so spooked about Selphia’s lazy blacksmith, but he couldn’t let things keep going in the direction they were headed, either. The red-headed dwarf began walking back through town toward the residential district where the smithy was located, determined to find out what he could to help the man he’d fallen for. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooo boy! Tell you what, Making Doug one of the POV protagonists in this fic was not part of the original plan but I am LOVING it! <3 Writing from Doug’s perspective is the absolute best way to make Dylas sympathetic, I think. What do you guys think? Does Dylas deserve this Good Dwarf Boy?


	13. The Order

Frey’s heart thumped in her chest as she paced quickly back toward the castle. Her confidence had fizzled somewhat after she’d left the arms of her new lover, but fortunately the opportunity to return to those arms was tempting enough to keep her motivated. 

 

_ “This is gonna suck, though…”  _ She thought, clenching her teeth. 

 

She was willing to bet that Dylas would come back to the castle before long, probably assuming she was still sick in bed. Guilt bubbled in her gut. By all accounts, she  _ had _ been wicked. Disappearing half the night to get drunk with another man… throwing his engagement ring into the fire?? 

 

“ _ Jeez. Really  _ he  _ should be the one breaking up with  _ me!” She thought as her face burned with shame. “ _ But then again, it couldn’t be that easy, could it?”  _ If she felt so much guilt over what she’d done, why did she feel so much more  _ joy _ about it? 

 

She was just one really unpleasant conversation away from freedom. She’d already made her decision. No more uncertainty. These thoughts electrified her as she imagined a future where she could actually  _ date _ Bado instead of stealing kisses behind the back of her cantankerous boyfriend. She wanted better than Dylas’ treatment of her and she was going to get it. She just had to do this one thing… 

 

As the castle loomed above her, Frey steeled herself, straightening her back and pulling the door open. Determination held her firm as she passed into the enormous edifice. 

 

Immediately her earlier suspicion was confirmed as Dylas’ voice rang through the stone hallways of the castle. 

 

“Whaddaya mean you don’t know where she is? She was in bed and sicker than a dog just a few hours ago! What the hell have you been doing? Aren’t you supposed to take care of her?” The half-monster barked angrily. Vishnal cringed before him, head bowed in the unmistakable attitude of submission. 

 

“I’m s-sorry, sir!” He squeaked anxiously, “Miss Frey rose and dressed and went about her day. She appeared to be feeling well enough when she left.” 

 

“You careless—” Dylas began growling. Frey interrupted him 

 

“Dylas! Leave him alone!” She called firmly. Both of the lean men turned at the sound of her voice. 

 

“ _ There _ you are!” Dylas breathed, shooting a venomous look back at Vishnal as he parted from the butler and paced briskly over to his paramour. 

 

“Yeah I’m here.” She said, hands forming fists at her sides as he approached.  At least this way they would not shake so visibly… “Don’t you think you owe him an apology?” 

 

“What? Wait, never mind that now. I’ve been looking all over the place for you!” 

 

“You have?” She asked warily, quirking an eyebrow. In the background, Vishnal quietly excused himself, walking away as quickly as he could manage without a ruckus. 

 

“Yeah.” Dylas’ tone stopped just shy of confrontational. “I know where you went last night. I heard it from the butlers.” He said, staring into her eyes. Frey began to sweat, desperately trying to keep herself from trembling visibly. How much did he know? Could he somehow tell she’d been at the lips of someone else not half an hour ago? She waited in suspense for him to demand an explanation, at minimum for why she’d disappeared to get completely hammered. Dylas’ hard stare softened suddenly into concern. 

 

“You need to stay away from that guy. He’s dangerous.” He said suddenly, tone serious. Frey blinked stupidly at him, baffled. 

 

“Who, Bado? What?” She shook her head, “Why on Earth do you think that?” She honestly couldn’t even imagine the big goofy man's as a danger to anyone. 

 

“Listen to me.” Dylas said urgently, stepping forward and grasping her by the arms, just above her elbows. “I know you just trust everyone right off the bat but he’s   _ violent _ . You’re not safe around him and I can’t have that.” 

 

“ _ Violent?!” _ Suddenly a red-hot anger began to boil in her stomach as Frey remembered shining crimson blood sheeted down one side of Bado’s handsome face. 

 

“I’m sorry,” She intoned dryly, voice suddenly strong and loud, “Did  _ he _ punch  _ you _ in the face? Cause I could have sworn I was just over there healing  _ his _ face up with magic.” Dylas eyes flashed. 

 

“You healed him?” He demanded. 

 

“Yes.” She shot back coldly. A hint of a snarl came into Dylas’ expression. 

 

“What is he to you, anyway?” He hissed. 

 

“He’s my  _ friend _ .” She said firmly, even as her inner voice whispered  _ “Liar…”  _

 

“Well your  _ friend _ said he’d kill me!” Dylas snarled. Frey blanched. 

 

“There’s no way that’s true.” She countered. It was impossible. No part of her could believe Bado would threaten the life of one of Selphia’s citizens, not even the foul tempered romantic rival that Dylas had become to him. 

 

“Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think.” Dylas said crisply. Then he sighed. “I'm just trying to protect you.”

 

“I don’t need to be protected from him.” Frey insisted, pulling herself from Dylas’ grip. “He’s not dangerous.” 

 

“I’m  _ tellling _ you he  _ is _ !” Dylas shouted. 

 

“I don’t believe that.” She shot back. 

 

“So you’re calling me a liar?” He fumed.

 

“No, I just—there must be some mistake. He’s gentle. There’s no way he’d threaten to kill you.” She insisted. His golden eyes flashed with anger as he sucked in a long breath. 

 

“I forbid you to go near that guy!” He roared, jabbing a finger southward through the wall, aiming for the blacksmith’s shop across town. Selphia's princess stared, wide-eyed at her boyfriend for a beat, motionless.

 

“For…bid?” Frey breathed, every inch of her shaking… with  _ rage _ . Something must have changed drastically in her eyes, judging by the way the angry young man before her faltered suddenly. The princess of Selphia drew in a shuddering breath, long and deep. 

 

“YOU DON’T  _ OWN _ ME!” She bellowed, spun on her heel and stormed out of the castle. 

 

“ _ Stupid, violent PIG! I should have left your miserable monster ass in the ruins!”  _ Frey fumed inside as she marched furiously back to the ‘Meanderer’. She would get to the bottom of this. And when Bado had told her what had  _ really  _ happened, she’d have even more justifiable reasons for wanting out of this stupid relationship. 

 

* * * * *

Dylas stood dumbstruck in the ornate hallway of Selphia’s castle in the wake of Frey’s departure. He blinked stupidly at the door she’d wrenched open, slamming it shut again as she left him behind. Frey had  _ never _ yelled at him like that before. 

 

“ _ But you’ve certainly yelled at  _ her _ like that…”  _ His inner voice whispered. Was it any wonder that her patience with him could eventually run out? He swallowed. She was slipping through his fingers… probably on her way to that big brute she’d been with the night before to lap up whatever lies he fed her. How had this happened? He was  _ losing _ her to… to  _ him _ ! That lazy idiot blacksmith, for crying out loud! 

 

“ _ I shouldn’t have walked out and left her with him after the fight.”  _ He thought, dread settling like a stone in his stomach, “ _ It was the perfect opportunity for him to turn her against me…” _

 

_ “Or… maybe  _ you _ turned her against you when you screamed at her and told her you didn’t have time for her…”  _ The terrible voice inside whispered smoothly

 

“ _ No… please… tell me I didn’t fuck this up… tell me I didn't ruin the one good thing that’s ever happened in my life…”  _

 

Dylas’ body moved without conscious thought, his weight shifting forward to launch him through the door, chasing after his fiancé.

 

“ _ She’s not your fiancé, remember?  _ He _ told you… and  _ he _ would know, wouldn’t he? If she did more than just drink with him last night…”  _

 

_ “ _ Shut up.” He growled under his breath. This was no time for his inner voice to be whispering these things at him. He seized the door handle—

 

“GUARDIAN DYLAS,” A huge, booming, inhuman voice thundered, “MIGHT I HAVE A WORD?” He winced, bestial ears flatting down at the din of the Native Dragon’s call. The great dragon hall was just down the hallway to the left. Had she heard everything? He hesitated, hand still gripped tightly on the handle. 

 

“NOW, if you please.” The voice added, a hint of a growl in it. Dylas gave in, tucking his tail between his legs and shuffling reluctantly into the great dragon hall to answer Ventuswill’s summons. 

 

As he passed into the enormous audience chamber the shadow of the huge dragon’s silhouette fell upon him and cast him into half-darkness. He squinted up at her plumed head raised up on her serpentine neck, backlit by the great skylight above. 

 

“Dylas…” She rumbled. He braced himself to be scolded. Venti lowered her head closer and spoke more quietly “What’s going on, my friend? It sounds as if your relationship hangs by a thread.” Her huge glassy black eyes were fretful, the whole of her reptilian face appearing almost gaunt with worry. 

 

“I…” He began, struggling to let the words out. He’d always struggled with sharing his thoughts and feelings with anyone. People didn’t want to hear that shit, anyway. But… this was Venti… surely he could count on her. And she was asking, after all… “I think… I think I’ve messed everything up with her.” He admitted, eyes burning. The great dragon tilted her head sadly. 

 

“I heard you two had fought the other day… I had hoped you would have reconciled by now.” 

 

“I thought we had… I made her a banquet to say sorry and show her how I feel.” 

 

“Yes, I heard about that. Quite a gesture.” The dragon said gently, a hint of approval in her voice. 

 

“Yeah, well… She said she forgave me, but then I proposed to her and… she…” 

 

_ “She didn’t say yes…did she?” _ His inner voice jeered, quoting Bado. 

 

“It may have been a bit premature, following such a conflict.” The dragon god offered delicately. 

 

“Ya think?” Dylas hissed through clenched teeth, tears pooling in his eyelids. 

 

“ _ Stupid! This is all of your own making. You’re going to cry about it now? Like that’s gonna help anything?” _

 

“Well, If anyone has the power to see past such an error, it is our Frey.” Ventuswill said warmly, her ever-present faith in her chosen hero intact, as always. “I’m sure she’ll come around, eventually.”

 

“No…” Dylas murmured, looking down at the floor. “I’m losing her, Venti… I’m losing her to someone else.” 

 

“Someone else?” The big dragon echoed, “Who?” She sounded almost offended. Would Selphia’s god and protector be willing to intervene in this for him? A small flicker of hope kindled to life inside the once-guardian. 

 

“Well, you heard from Volkanon I’m sure… that Bado carried her home drunk last night?” 

 

“Bado? You suspect  _ he _ is courting her?” Ventuswill rumbled, sounding amused. 

 

“She’s been with him a lot since we fought. He was there when I shouted at her and hurt her feelings. I stormed out and… I think he said something to her then. Now she keeps going back to him and when I told her to stay away from him she ran off! She’s probably going to him right now!” His voice grew louder as he spoke, his fear and anger stoked by having an audience to hear them. 

 

“Well, Bado is… not the  _ proactive _ type, Dylas. It is hard to imagine him deliberately soliciting the romantic interest of our princess.” 

 

“That’s what Doug said, too.” Dylas admitted, “But Venti, he said to me this morning: ‘She’s  _ not _ your fiance’. He’s involved with this, somehow. I got so mad I punched him in the face. Then he said he couldn’t fight me or he’d kill me.” The dragon gave a snort of surprise.

 

“You struck him?” She sounded aghast. 

 

“Yeah, and I’d do it again. That no-good, dirty—-”

 

“Dylas!” She boomed, “You  _ must not _ challenge him to a fight.” The half monster blanched. Again? Again someone was warning him away from fighting the man who would try to steal away his lover because they thought he was too weak to take him on?

 

“I could beat him!” Dylas barked, surprising himself with the desperate insistence in his voice. 

 

“NO.” Ventuswill thundered. Dylas fell silent, glaring up at her with fists clenched at his sides. 

 

“You think I’m weak.” He said, low. 

 

“No…” Venti said again, “Dylas… you do not understand. You have only known the man a short time, only since you were revived. He was a  _ terribly _ gifted soldier. A nightmare on the battlefield, a terror to his foes… and to  _ himself _ . If you drag  _ that _ man out of the person Bado has worked so hard to become… it will likely destroy you both.” 

 

“You’re worried about  _ him _ , now?” Dylas asked sharply, tail lashing.  

 

“Of course…” Venti said sadly, her voice weary, “He is my subject, just as you are. It is my duty to protect all of you. I know it is hard for you to see him as anything but an obstacle to your wishes right now… but this town is all he has, just like you. The people who saved him before are gone, and there is no other life he can return to… Please, Dylas… do not seek to harm him. It will not win her affection if she truly has formed feelings for him.” 

 

“Then what—” Dylas cringed, face crumpling into a pained grimace as frustration overcame him. “What the hell am I supposed to do? Just let him have her?” Ventuswill remained silent for a long moment, blinking slowly at him, looking thoughtful. 

 

“What were the last words she said to you, just now?” 

 

“Tch!” Dylas spat. Why would she want him to relive that? Again he heard the anger and resentment in Frey’s voice. 

 

“You don’t own me.” He muttered reluctantly, hearing her shouting in his memory as he repeated her words. Venti dipped her head in acknowledgment. 

 

“It is the truth. You cannot make a person love you. You cannot convince her to and you cannot order her to. If anything, your trying to hold on so tightly to her is pushing her further away.” 

 

“So, it’s hopeless, then?” He sighed, looking away as emptiness took up residence in his chest. 

 

“No… I do not think so. You simply need to humble yourself and tell her everything. And, you need to listen more carefully to her. If anything, Bado has probably been the person to whom she has turned to air her feelings about you.” Dylas winced at this latest jab. “If she does not feel she can really speak to you, then this is bound to happen. If it weren’t Bado it would be someone else. You need to become a safe person for her to express herself to, my friend. Your temper is working against you in this.” 

 

“I know that!” Dylas suddenly shouted, “I  _ know _ I’m a foul-mouthed screw-up, Venti! The whole point of proposing to her was because I thought she actually understood me, even though I’m a bad seed.” His voice shook. It hurt to realize he was still the useless wreck he’d been before. He’d thought her love had allowed him to become something else… 

 

“You are  _ not _ a bad seed, Dylas.” Venti’s compassion washed over him, making him feel guilty on top of it all. “Everyone has a path to walk to grow into the person they are meant to be. Even if your relationship is truly not salvageable, you are not unworthy.” 

 

“How can you say that, Venti? All I was ever good for was becoming a corpse that channeled runes for you.” 

 

“You  _ saved _ me.” She rumbled, voice earnest, “You gave your life for the good of myself and all who depend on my power for their safety, livelihood, and happiness. You are a  _ hero _ , Dylas.” 

 

“It really doesn’t feel like it… If I could drive  _ her _ away…” 

 

“It is not in Frey’s nature to hate someone, Dylas. She will forgive you, truly. Until then, all you can do is think hard about what it means to love her, and show her what answer you come to.” 

 

“And if she chooses him?” He added glumly.

 

“It is her choice.” Venti said gently, “But even if that comes to pass, she is  _ not _ the only person in the world who could love you, Dylas.” He blinked at those words, realizing as he heard them that she had broken a thing he’d assumed to be the truth: could there be someone else out there who would love a person like him? He’d thought that Frey was simply beyond the capability of most people, able to see past his  faults because of the extreme goodness of her nature. Were there other people like her, out there?

 

“Do you really think so, Venti?” He asked, looking up at her. The big dragon nodded, giving one of her strange smiles, so odd to see on the huge, plumed, reptilian head. Suddenly Dylas realized the gauntness he had assumed was simply a further expression of her sympathy had stayed upon her face as she beamed at him. 

 

“Venti… Are you alright?” He asked, suddenly concerned. The Native Dragon blinked at him. 

 

“Is it obvious?” She asked quietly. 

 

“You… look tired.” He said cautiously. She gave a great, long sigh. 

 

“I  _ am _ tired… more than I should be. I am a truly ancient creature, yes… but it’s getting worse and worse. This is more than just my age, I fear.” 

 

“But the rune spheres…” 

 

“Yes… they yet sustain me.” She confirmed. “But I fear there may be something else at play, here. Five times I have cheated death, thanks to five courageous friends who refused to let me perish. But, I was not meant to remain in this world forever. It is possible Mother Nature is simply telling me to abide.” 

 

“You’re not—” He said, suddenly panicked. 

 

“No.” She answered, gesturing to calm him. “I do not think so. But there is something afoot. I will let you know if I discover any answers. Until then, please keep this between us. I do not wish to worry anyone until I have some kind of explanation in hand.” 

 

“…alright.” He agreed reluctantly. “As you wish… but you had better tell me the  _ instant _ you know how I can help.” He said, jabbing a finger at her armored body. The dragon chuckled.

 

“Yes, I will my friend. Now, If I may give you some unsolicited advice: I think you must give Frey a little time to cool down. You may speak to her tomorrow, if you wish, but I strongly urge you to take some time today for yourself as well. Gather your thoughts. Meditate on your feelings for her. Be humble, and show her your love in a more constructive way than trying to rule her, next time.” She winked a huge glassy eye at him.

 

“Yeah, alright.” He agreed. “Thanks Venti, for listening. I appreciate it.” She nodded, feathers rising all down her length, a sure sign she was pleased. Dylas turned to go, raising a hand in farewell and heading out the north exit. He walked through the quiet, serene fields Frey tended with her own two hands and proceeded toward the Bell Hotel and Bathhouse. A good soak was what he needed to calm down and think. Maybe if he paid extra, Lin Fa would even agree to make it extra hot.              

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Dylas, you blockhead. He can’t seem to help but do exactly the wrongest approach with her, can he?  
> But he DID manage to send her storming back over to Bado to demand an explanation. How will she take the truth about his demons from the past? 
> 
> I know these chapters have been stacking up the tension lately and you’re waiting with bated breath for Frey to tell Dylas it’s over, but I hope you’re also enjoying all this set up, too! I sure have been enjoying writing it. We’re almost to the end of ‘part 1’ (of three) so please look forward to the upcoming chapters as well! Thanks, as always for reading my story! It really makes me happy that I can bring some joy with what I do for fun.


	14. The Soldier

Doug hesitated outside the heavy wooden door of the blacksmith’s shop. How to approach this… He could just go in and ask the guy. Bado was a weird one: despite all his scheming and scamming he never did  _ actually _ lie, especially not when pressed with a direct question. That was certainly the fastest way to get answers, but then the blacksmith would know Doug was somehow involved with the whole drunk princess situation. He’d probably figure out in no time that Doug was there on Dylas’ behalf. Then what? Would the ex-knight be angry with him? Would Doug have put himself in the exact position he was trying to keep Dylas out of? He chewed his lip, brow furrowed. 

 

Just then he heard footsteps approaching. The sudden panic of being discovered doing something he shouldn’t overwhelmed him and he dove behind the bushes by the shop’s open window without thinking.

 

It wasn’t a terribly good hiding place. Chastising himself for being a damned idiot, Doug waited to be discovered and tried to piece together some kind of alibi. He needn’t have worried though: the person who appeared was much too preoccupied to notice him there, by the look of her. 

 

Frey, princess of Selphia, strode up to the front door in a hurry, pulled it open and stepped inside without so much as a glance in Doug’s direction. The small dwarven man blinked as his brain tried to catch up. 

 

“ _ Well damn. That was quick.”  _ He thought. Already Frey had proven Dylas’ suspicions that she was going out of her way to seek out the big blacksmith’s company. Why was she here, though? Had Dylas caught up to her and talked to her already? Or did it have something to do with her drunken visit the night before? 

 

Making a decision on impulse, Doug scuttled around the corner of the building and repositioned himself beneath the side window of the shop in a much better, more obscured vantage. The simple hedges on this side of the building cast the space in shadow, so he even dared peer up over the windowsill as he heard Frey’s voice addressing the other dwarven man inside. He might have regretted his previous decision to become a spy for the empire, but spying itself wasn’t something he condemned outright… 

 

* * * * *

Frey found her way back to the ‘Meanderer’ for the second time that day in short order, her anxiety spurring her legs to carry her all the quicker. As she pushed open the door, Bado looked up from where he sat at the workshop bench to see who had come and a look of surprise came over his face. 

 

“Well, that was quick…” He said a little uncertainly as he twisted in his seat to face her. He knew damn well it wouldn’t never have gone so easy if she really had broken up with Dylas just now. She stepped into the workshop and walked up to him with her worried, fretful expression intact. Plying him with her gaze earned a mirror of her anxiety in his expression. 

 

“Frey? What happened? Is everything alright?” 

 

“Did you tell Dylas you’d kill him?” She asked without preamble, expression bent with concern. She had to know for sure; true, she didn’t believe he’d have said it but it wasn’t like Dylas to tell a bold-faced lie, either. He was not one for social intrigue. 

 

Bado looked at her with a bewildered, fretful gaze. He said nothing for one breath, then two. Her heart began to pound faster. Could it actually be true? Was her impression of the gentle, goofy blacksmith completely wrong, after all? 

 

“I told him…” Bado said, drawing in a long breath, “That I can’t fight him because  _ if _ I did, I’d kill him.” Frey blinked at the man, struggling to understand.

 

“W-why would you say that, though? You don’t actually want to hurt him, do you?” She asked in a small voice. 

 

“No, that’s exactly it. I don’t  _ ever _ want to fight or hurt people or  _ kill _ someone ever again.” He said, voice pained. She continued to stare at him, waiting. He sighed, face an unhappy mask. “Dylas came roaring in her demanding I fight him,” He explained, “I told him off so he hit me. Called me a coward. Said I’d gotten you drunk ‘for my own purposes’. He was tryin’ anything he could to get my goat.” Frey winced. So that’s why Dylas had been so furious about her drunk escapade. 

 

 Bado stopped speaking briefly, looking off to the side with a pained expression. “I… I was a  _ very  _ gifted soldier, y’see… that means I was good at fighting the enemy… at  _ killing _ them.” Frey’s eyes widened. He winced as he saw it, but continued: “Even though I hate that I was that kind of man before, and even though I never want to become that man again, there are parts of me that  _ can’t _ forget what it was like to be him.” He laced his fingers together and lowered his forehead to his hands, knuckles gripping one another tightly. When he spoke again, his voice was strained. He did not look up at her this time. “I felt it… I knew if I raised a hand to hurt Dylas, I could go back to being what I was. I knew… that it would be easy to cross the line. So, I told him the truth, hopin’ it would scare him bad enough to leave me the hell alone.” 

 

Frey drew in a long, slow breath. The tremendous relief that Bado had not truly threatened Dylas was marred by his frightening confession that he  _ would be _ a threat if he let himself enter into a violent encounter. Dylas was so hell-bent on opposing Bado; what if he attacked him again? How could she protect both her soon-to-be ex and her newfound lover? And there was also the simple and ineffable fact that as much as she had recently felt she’d grown to know this man so well, there was clearly a lot about him she had no notion of, yet. The warm, gentle hands that had held her in her darkest hours over the past several days had at one time been bathed in blood. She was going to have to figure out a way to reconcile those two sides of him in her own mind or there would be no future for her in his arms…

 

Bado lowered his hands now and looked back up at her, expression fretful. “I sure didn’t mean to make things  _ more _ complicated for ya, Frey. But, I couldn’t take the risk that I’d hurt someone, even Dylas who’d just hit me and worse: who’d done  _ you _ so wrong lately.” 

 

“Do you really mean that?” She asked, mouth dry. “That you don’t want to hurt him no matter what?” 

 

The big man before her looked into her eyes, his own gaze  earnest, pleading for her understanding. He stood, opened his hands and held them out to her, waiting to receive hers. She obliged, returning the pressure of his grip as she controlled her breath.

 

“I swear to ya, Frey… I’d rather die than go back to bein’ what I was. I almost  _ did…  _ back when I was still a knight. Every damn day I thought about just lettin’ the next enemy soldier run me through… end it all.” He said, shaking his head. She cringed, clenching her teeth at the actual, physical pain of considering the idea of him dying. The big man continued his story: “But Tristan—Forte an’ Kiel’s dad—he brought me here to Selphia. He helped find a place for me to live peacefully. It took a couple years, but… for the first time in my life I didn’t hate who I was. This life… I ain’t done a whole lot with it, but it’s what I  _ choose _ . It’s what I found worth livin’ for.”

 

“Would you really kill someone again if you fought?” She asked faintly, still struggling to absorb what she’d just learned about him. He stared into her eyes for a long moment, the weight of worry cast over the blue-gray of his slightly reflective irises. 

 

“I know it seems insane…” He said quietly, “But once you’ve crossed a line, and the other side is  _ real _ … you can’t look at it the same way anymore. The truth is, anyone who raises a weapon against another  _ could _ kill them. But, once ya have taken a life, ya can’t hide from that reality ever again. I  _ know _ I could kill because I did as a knight, back then. There’s no pretending it’s some abstract concept or impossible situation.” He sighed, letting his gaze fall to the floor and looking as gloomy as she’d ever seen him. It  _ did _ sound insane to her ears—the very idea of Bado deliberately  _ killing _ someone was one that just wouldn’t pass through her mind without a struggle. As long as she’d known him, she’d considered him as gentle as he was lazy. Despite his large size—or perhaps because of it—he moved about in a deliberate, careful way, always mindful of the other, smaller people around him. How could someone so quietly considerate of others also be a killer?

 

“I can’t unmake what I was…” He said finally, gazing with a sorrowful resolve into her emerald eyes, “All I can do is decide who I am now. I ain’t a soldier anymore. I don’t fight anymore. I don’t hurt people anymore.” Now a spark of hope kindled in his stormy blue-gray eyes. “I  _ like _ this me. I’d take every punch that fool could possibly throw before I agreed to throw this life away by hitting back. Do you know what the best part of being the man I am now is?” He added, looking expectantly at her. She shook her head. 

 

“You, Frey.” He said simply, “If the person I’ve been all the time you’ve known me is one you could fall for, then I must be doin’ somethin’ right, wouldn’t ya say?” 

 

Frey slowly allowed a smile to pull at her lips. Part of her was still frightened by the idea of Bado’s past—the violence itself, his self-loathing, the damage those events had clearly done to him—but, the way he spoke of all of it… could she really believe any evil intent of him after that? 

 

Soldiers killed one another. She might not know a whole lot about military matters but she knew that much was just the reality faced by men and women on battlefields. He had been a knight in Norad’s army, a weapon in the hands of their nation. And, by his own account even that very understandable context for his violent deeds had not absolved him in his own mind. If he really had leaned toward self-annihilation rather than continue to wreak havoc on his nation’s enemies, didn’t that describe a gentle nature that was written into his very blood and bones? What else could burden a career soldier talented enough to be called ‘legendary’ in his prime like that? 

 

“ _No…_ _I see you. You aren’t a killer, even if you have killed before.”_ She thought, blinking in surprise at her own conviction. It was just so natural to believe in him, the man who’d helped and believed in her through all her recent troubles. 

 

She stepped forward, releasing his hands and wrapping her arms around him. He reciprocated the embrace immediately. In one motion their arms flowed around one another and held each other gently, carefully… 

 

“Thanks…” Frey whispered, “For being who you are. I’m really glad all this mess helped me see you, finally.”

 

“I should be the one thankin’ you, Frey. Thanks for giving me a chance.” He replied, voice gentle. She squeezed him firmly, listening as he sighed out a relieved breath and returned the hug. When she finally released him and leaned back, the look of gentle affection in his lined face melted her inside. She rose up onto her toes and stretched for him, eyeing his lips and looking into his eyes hopefully. A smile grew along his mouth and he bent his neck and lowered his lips to hers, slowly, carefully. 

 

She mirrored his gentle touch and concentrated on the kiss, not a wild-untamed passion this time but an earnest reassurance and show of gratitude. As they parted she looked into his eyes with such conviction the words that spilled forth from her lips bore no hesitation at all: 

 

“I trust you.” 

 

He met her gaze, drawing in a breath that swelled his broad chest, his brows lifted in a look of humble joy. 

 

“Thank you.” He said once more, all the earnest warmth in those two simple words practically glowing from him. 

 

“I’ll try to keep Dylas from coming after you again.” She added, “I don’t want you to be put in an awkward situation all over again.” 

 

“That’s appreciated,” He replied, “But remember what I told ya about takin’ responsibility for him.” She nodded. Then her expression scrunched up.

 

“Damnit! I was going over there to tell him it’s over, and I got all stuck on this after he said you’d threatened him!” She thumped a fist against her opposite hand in frustration. Bado chuckled. 

 

“Guess you’ll just have to try again, eh?” He offered, no trace of ire in his voice. She sighed. 

 

“Yeah… guess so. I just want to be done with this. I’ve got plenty to look forward to, but this mess is still before me.” She looked up at him with a sheepish smile. 

 

“You may not be the most patient person, but I’ve had plenty of practice.” He offered, “I’ll be here waiting when you’ve tied up your loose ends.” 

 

“Thanks!” She chimed, stepping forward and hugging him once more. 

 

“By the by,” He added after she’d let go again, “D’ya still want to fix up that cloak ya left here the other day?”

 

“Oh! I forgot about that. Yeah! Please!” She chirped, glad for the excuse to spent time with him again soon. He grinned, obviously pleased at her eager agreement. 

 

“Great! If you can bring the materials, I’ll show ya how it’s done.”

 

“Sounds good.” She beamed, “Maybe I’ll bring them by tomorrow. I’d rather not leave right away now that I’m here.“

 

“I won’t complain about an excuse to spend time with ya tomorrow as well.” He replied. 

 

“Good! In the meantime, want to tell me about your latest scheme?” She offered brightly. He grinned back at her and ushered her toward the workshop where they could both sit down. 

 

“Absolutely! I been thinkin’ there’s probably some kind of vegetable-holdin’ vest I could craft and sell to Porcoline, given he’s always droppin’ ingredients right and left.”

 

“That is downright inane.” She replied, laughing, “How is that any different from any other vest?” She asked as she sat down on the bench. Bado settled himself beside her, gesturing as he explained further:

 

“Well, see… I’m gonna make all these different pockets and loops and stuff. Long ones for cucumbers and carrots, big ones for daikon and eggplants…” he went on, but she just got lost in staring at his face: crow’s feet and smile lines, those silvery-blue eyes, his always-mussed hair and the thick, short beard that framed his jaw. She couldn’t help but smile as he described his silly plans, not a drop of gravitas to him now that he was in his element. He was like this by choice; everything serious had gone by the wayside to give him space to breathe after his past life full of violence and pain. Wasn’t that choice the most meaningful? Didn’t that say more about him than whatever he’d done years and years before she’d met him? 

 

No part of her remained concerned over his violent past, at least where it came to her own safety. If he’d taken a blow that had spilled his blood and still abstained from raising a hand in anger, then his intentions were plenty clear. The person he was now, this goofy, gentle fool who prized a lazy afternoon in this quiet, rural town… that was who she’d fallen for. And as he’d said, that was certainly worth something. 

 

* * * * * 

Doug slumped down against the outside wall of the ‘Meanderer’, Eyes wide, breath short as if he’d been punched in the gut. Dylas had been so convinced that Bado posed a threat, either to his relationship or to Frey herself; he was bound to pick a fight again, and when he did, he might awaken something awful. Doug had come to try and prevent such an eventuality. Now, though… now Doug had  _ seen  _ it… not a frightening, murderous ex-warrior wearing the disguise of a shopkeeper. He had seen the princess’ new  _ lover _ bend to  _ kiss _ her! 

 

Doug swallowed, sweating. This was even  _ worse _ than he’d feared! If Dylas ever found out, he’d fight to the death— _ his _ death, if Bado’s reputation could be trusted. The upshot was if Bado really meant what he’d said about not wanting to hurt Dylas there might not be as much danger as Doug feared. But what if the half-monster came at the big man with everything he had? If he was mad enough to try and hurt the blacksmith badly or even try to kill him things could get out of control no matter how the bigger man felt about hurting people these days.

 

All that aside, though… Frey didn’t  _ want _ Dylas. She had her sights on a different man and she’d already won his affection completely by the sound of it. A giddy feeling rose up in Doug’s belly, mingling with anxiety. Dylas was going to be crushed if he found out… but Frey didn’t  _ want _ him. The man Doug was so hopelessly in love with  _ wasn’t  _ about to get married. Maybe… maybe he… Doug shook his head firmly. “ _ No, don’t get ahead of yourself.” _ He thought, “One thing at a time.” 

 

What did he do now? He couldn’t be the one to tell Dylas this. Actually, it would probably be best if Dylas didn’t know about her betrayal at all, ever! He’d be devastated! But then again, would he agree to give up on his relationship with Frey without this jarring proof that she wasn’t right for him? Even if she told him she didn’t want to get married, he’d probably still try to win her back somehow. Maybe he  _ should _ find out about this? 

 

The young dwarf made a quiet little growl of frustration in his throat.  The excitement and hope and fear and dread all tangled with one another in his gut, spurring him to motion. He stood up and began walking. He didn’t know where he was going, he just had to  _ move _ . After months of moping around since Dylas had chosen a beautiful princess for himself, never even noticing the red-headed dwarf who couldn’t help but love him, suddenly a whole array of possibilities had opened up. And, even if he couldn’t have him, at minimum Doug was determined to protect his crush from any of the worse outcomes he foresaw in this situation. He had to. Someday… someday he wanted Dylas’ real smile to shine on him, so he had to keep the man in one piece. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, reconciliation is always so satisfying to write and read, don’t you think?  
> I do have a tendency of resolving things without too much turmoil, but I just can’t bear to make them suffer too much you know? I hope you enjoyed all the extrapolation of Bado’s history that’s been involved in these chapters. I find that sort of fill-in-the-gaps stuff to be one of the most enjoyable aspects of writing fanfic. 
> 
> Oh and now Doug is in too deep! What’s he gonna do with this information? Can he keep from spilling the beans? Or will he even want to keep that cat in the bag? 
> 
> We’ve only got a couple more chapters until the end of part 1, you guys!! I can’t wait for you guys to read the climax of this segment, but I don’t have that much backlog written so I can’t speed up my posting schedule without causing a huge lapse for a few weeks auugh! 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Thanks as always for reading!


	15. The Bath

A frustrated growl escaped Doug’s lips as he trekked toward the Northwest corner of town. He'd been over it and over it as he walked through the residential district. Nothing was clearer now, no matter now many times his frantic mind tried to assemble the pieces. He couldn’t predict what would happen but he could see the uglier possibilities and he was afraid. Was there any way of  _ gently _ tipping Dylas off that Frey was not the partner he needed, that she didn’t  _ want _ to work things out with him and he should just let her go without a fight? If he loved her enough to  _ propose _ to her, was there any hope he’d listen to reason? Knowing she’d kissed the blacksmith would undoubtedly prove she was no longer interested in their relationship, but it would also prove Dylas’ suspicions right: the suspicions that had previously driven him to  _ attack _ Bado. Doug felt certain he knew precisely what Dylas would do upon hearing such news and it only prodded the fear in his belly into a frantic, squirming terror. 

 

“Damnit damnit  _ damnit!”  _ He hissed aloud, “I’m just going in circles! I don’t know what to do…” 

 

Perhaps this wasn’t something he could figure out right now, not with his mind a frantic jumble, anyway. He looked up from the paving stones and his pacing feet and realized he was nearing the Bell Hotel and Bathhouse. 

 

Yeah… maybe a bath was just what he needed to settle his nerves a little. Surely the answer would come to him once he’d had a chance to calm down. He ducked inside and blinked as his eyes adjusted to the lower light within the building. The ornate eastern architecture plus the humid air and wafting scents of herbal bath water immediately knocked his anxiety down a few pegs. He sighed with relief and approached the counter. 

 

Lin Fa stood there, humming to herself as she balanced ledgers at the counter. She was such an airhead, but somehow her business just kept thriving. Doug had become convinced a long time ago that Lin Fa simply enjoyed the patronage of a goddess of luck or something. There was really no other explanation for it. As the beautiful woman looked up at the younger man, he automatically tensed up. Beautiful people always made him nervous. Or… maybe it was that  _ confident _ people made him nervous. He would always be at a disadvantage next to someone who  _ knew _ they were who they were supposed to be, after all. 

 

“Well hello Doug! Have you come for a bath?” She intoned sweetly in her melodious voice. 

 

“Yeah.” He said simply, not quite equal to making pleasant, sophisticated conversation.

 

“Very good,” She smiled, “You have excellent timing! We’ve just raised the temperature. I know you like an especially hot bath.” 

 

“Great!” Doug said, and realized that he meant it. Finally some  _ good  _ luck. He grinned, passing payment to the woman. As she leaned over the counter the very generous portion of her breasts bulging out of her outfit bobbed before his face, several inches of cleavage visible. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

 

“ _ Goddess of luck, my ass,”  _ he thought with a wry smirk, “ _ I’m starting to think you make your own luck, lady.”  _

 

Of course, big tits didn’t have any real impact on him. He just hadn’t been born with the wiring to appreciate them. But as a dwarf, this made him one of the ‘lucky ones’ as many men back in his tribe had said. A stab of pain hit him at the memory and he winced. It always hurt…  _ always _ … to be reminded he was a refugee. The sole survivor, as far as he knew. The place he’d come from was gone… the people he’d come from were gone. He was a pebble that had been washed downstream into the ocean, miles from home and unlike any of the stones around him. Small… alone…

 

“Doug? Are you alright, sweetie?” Lin Fa’s voice interrupted his sudden slip into melancholy. He shook himself. 

 

“Yeah, sorry! Heheh!” He accepted the small basket of bathing supplies she passed him over the counter with shaking hands and offered an embarrassed little wave as he turned and proceeded toward the doorway to the men’s side of the bath. 

 

“ _ I’m such a mess lately. Can’t seem to control my thoughts at all.”  _ He thought. Once inside the changing room, he quickly disrobed and washed himself down with mechanical detachment. A grumbling voice caught his attention as Leon came in from the bath, forgoing a towel around his waist as always. 

 

“Crazy fool… going to boil alive…” The sculpted, muscular man muttered under his breath indignantly. His bronze skin shone with the water of the bath still dripping from him. He wore his long, pale hair tied up and his swishing fox’s tail wrapped in a simple cloth to keep him from leaving hairs in the bath water. 

 

Doug could never tell whether Leon’s lack of modesty said anything about his sexuality, or if he just liked to ruffle other men by letting it all hang out in the open all the dang time. He stole a quick glance, almost out of spite. Well, if he was going to prance around with his dick out, he had to expect the other guys to see it, right? Actually, the custom of humans to separate their baths by gender to protect sexual modesty had always struck Doug as ridiculous. He knew from experience there were plenty of gay humans out there, so putting all the men together wasn’t exactly keeping everyone modest anyway. Oh well. He supposed the whole ‘lucky ones’ thing was true after all, at least with little things like this. 

 

Leon gave a passing glance at Doug as he snatched a towel from the shelf and began to dry himself with an impatient air, then did a double take and grew a broad, wicked fox’s grin across his smug face. 

 

“Ohhhh!” He said in an exaggerated tone of realization, “I see now. No  _ wonder _ it’s so hot today.” He turned away, grin intact and went about his routine, unwrapping his tail—leaving his  _ whole _ ass exposed. Honestly, modesty just wasn’t part of Leon’s character no matter who he bathed with—Doug shook his head and made a face. What the hell had that been about. He just wasn’t in the mood to try and riddle out Leon’s teasing. The wily guardian always got the better of people with his tricks, anyway. Best not to engage. He rinsed the soap from his body and stood up, turning toward the entrance to the bath. 

 

“Enjoooy!” Leon sang at him as he left. Doug clenched his teeth and ignored the other man. He ducked under the short hanging banner in the doorway and stepped into the steaming bath chamber. It  _ did _ feel warmer than usual. The steam was so thick it seemed downright foggy in here. He stepped down into the bath, wading into the almost-scalding water with a hiss, half pain, half pleasure. Oh yes, this was just the way he liked it, and Lin Fa so rarely agreed to heat it up to this temperature too. 

 

“If you can’t take the heat, then stay the hell out, Leon.” A  _ very _ familiar voice growled lazily. Doug froze in place, face suddenly on fire—and not from the bath. His head snapped to the side and spotted  _ him _ , leaning back in a state of pure relaxation with his hair tied up and his eyes closed. Doug’s obsession lounged nude before him, oblivious to the red-headed dwarf. 

 

“ _ Gods and dragons!”  _ Doug thought furiously, “ _ WHY is it I can’t seem to get away from you lately?” _

 

Receiving no snarky quip for his comment, Dylas cracked an eyelid to see why Leon had not jibed back at him and blinked in surprise. 

 

“Heh. It’s just me.” Doug said, clenching his teeth in a tense approximation of a grin. He quickly sloshed down into the water and sat on the bottom level a safe distance from Dylas but not so far as to tip the man off that Doug was avoiding him.  

 

“Oh. Hey.” Dylas said mildly, a look of curiosity flickering in his features. Apparently he was too relaxed at the moment to pick a fight, as might normally happen between them—a small grace. 

 

“Hey.” Doug said, waving an awkward hand and furiously avoiding looking at Dylas. Gods gods  _ gods!  _ Why him? Why now? His brain was still so scrambled after what he’d seen. Suddenly Doug was terrified he would just blurt it out any moment. So much for relaxing and getting his mind right! He frowned down at the hot, aromatic water of the bath, frantically trying to think of a way out that wasn’t suspicious. Nothing came to him 

 

“Are… you okay?” Dylas asked, leaning over to try and see Doug’s face better. 

 

“ _ Fucking hell.”  _ The young dwarf thought, face burning. 

 

“Yeah, fine.” He lied. Dylas made a face. 

 

“Sure, makes sense since you’re scowling so much.” The half-monster said dryly. 

 

Doug sighed and drew his knees up, wrapping arms around them in a closed-off posture. 

 

“It’s nothing.” He muttered. In the corner of his eye he caught movement—Dylas flicking a bestial ear in irritation. 

 

“Look, you don’t have to tell me shit,” He said, not  _ quite _ belligerent, “but since you lent me and my issues an ear the other day, I’d do the same if you do want to let it out. Just wouldn’t seem fair otherwise…” He added, almost mumbling. Doug looked up, wide-eyed at the other man. Never in his wildest dreams had he expected such an offer from the same man who could make literally  _ anything _ into a reason to fight with him. 

 

An idea suddenly popped into his head. He had no way of knowing yet whether it was brilliant or idiotic, but it was something, so he carefully strung words together in his mind, testing them out on his tongue before speaking, hesitantly. 

 

“Um… well… I’m kinda in a bad situation, emotionally or whatever.” He said, feigning reluctance. Dylas raised an eyebrow.

 

“Bad how?” He prompted. Doug took the invitation. 

 

“I… I’m kinda… in l-love with someone…” His nervous speech and racing heart were not aspects of the act he needed to fake, “but they’re not in love with me… they obviously want someone else.” 

 

“Ah…” Dylas acknowledged, looking down with a fretted brow. “That  _ is _ rough.” 

 

“I’m not really sure what to do with these feelings…” Doug said carefully, “I want them to be happy, and I want to be with them… but those two things don’t seem to go together.” Dylas drew in a breath through his nose and gave a long, quiet sigh. 

 

“I… think I understand how that feels, actually.” He said, low. Electric excitement zinged through Doug. It was working! 

 

“You do?”

 

“Yeah…” 

 

“So… what do I do?” Doug ventured, tone careful. Dylas leaned back against the edge of the bath, lacing his fingers together behind his head and looking up at the ceiling with a furrowed brow. 

 

“I don’t know…” He said quietly, everything about him clearly troubled. “I was given some advice a bit ago… ‘you can’t make them love you’… It makes sense, but I feel powerless because of it. It seems like there should be something I can do about it, but…” He trailed off, chewing his lip. Doug waited, only struggling a little inside to be patient. Everything in him was on high alert. He’d obscured it well enough, sure… but that didn’t fool his body into forgetting he had all but confessed to his crush just now. “I guess… I guess it wouldn’t mean much, even if I could convince her…” Dylas said, speaking to himself more than to Doug, now, “I think I’d always be bothered by it… knowing she didn’t  _ choose _ me in the first place. I guess it’s the choosing that makes it significant to begin with…” 

 

Doug looked down, nodding, fighting the urge to smile in triumph.  _ Finally _ he was hearing good sense coming from Dylas’ mouth about the whole situation. 

 

“That…makes a lot of sense.” He said, trailing a fingertip in the water as he stared down at it. “I’m just assuming here, but you’re talking about Frey, right? Because of the whole getting drunk with Bado thing?” 

 

“Yeah, pretty much.” Dylas sighed, rubbing at his temples with one hand. 

 

“Well… if something really is happening between those two… I guess that would mean she ain’t right for you after all.” Doug said, thinking immediately after: “ _ Damnit… You are NOT subtle, Doug.”  _ Dylas’ face contorted into an unpleasant combination of anger and grief. His jaw tightened and he held his breath, blinking rapidly. Sympathy stung Doug’s eyes too. He fretted his brow as he watched the man he loved struggling to swallow that truth. 

 

“Y-yeah…” He croaked, finally, swallowing his sorrow and blinking back tears. “Yeah, I guess… I guess that’s true. It’s just weird, you know? I’ve only ever worried whether I was right for  _ her _ . I’ve always looked at her and thought: she’s  _ perfect _ . How can I be worthy of her? The thought that she isn’t r-right for  _ me…”  _ He trailed, off brow furrowed, looking confused. Doug looked sorrowfully at the other man. 

 

“I’m sorry, dude…” He said quietly. 

 

“Yeah… me too.” Dylas echoed. “Sorry I was the kind of man that would drive her away—possibly right into someone else’s arms.” 

 

“I don’t think you have to think of it that way.” Doug countered, a little spike of resentment stirring inside him, “It can just be that it didn’t work out. No judgement required. Sometimes people just don’t align.” He certainly didn’t blame Dylas for the fact he’d never looked at him in a romantic light. He’d been with  _ her _ . Why on earth would he be looking in the direction of a stunted red-headed dwarf when he had a  _ princess  _ on his arm?

 

“I get what you’re saying,” Dylas said, “but after last week… after the way I acted. It’s pretty hard not to think of it as my own fault.” 

 

Doug looked down at the water again, thinking for a long silent moment. 

 

“Well… you can’t learn without messing up. You sound like you’ve been thinking about this a lot. If it doesn’t work out with Frey, at least you’ll know better for next time.” 

 

“Next time?” 

 

“Yeah. You know, next time you date someone.” He said, hoping to all the gods and Native Dragons that Dylas couldn’t hear his thoughts, somehow.

 

“Ventuswill said something like that too… about me seeing someone else in the future. To be honest, I’ve never even considered it before. If Frey hadn’t asked me out, I’d have never expected to date anyone.”

 

“What? Why?” Doug asked, honestly confused. 

 

“Because who’s gonna want a cranky idiot who can’t talk about his feelings without clamming up or shouting at someone?” The half-monster returned heatedly. “And… I don’t imagine the tail is a turn-on for most people, either…” He grumbled. 

 

“Well, that’s stupid.” Doug said flatly. Dylas turned and gave him a frown. 

 

“What?” 

 

“That’s stupid.” He repeated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “People are into all kinds of stuff and all kinds of people. To just assume no one is ever going to love you? Just seems like nonsense. Quittin’ before you start…” Dylas blushed, fidgeting his graceful fingertips in the water’s surface. 

 

“W-well… It’s just an easy assumption for me to make. I never dated  _ anyone _ before Frey, ya know…” 

 

“Then you have your whole life ahead of you, if this doesn’t pan out. There’s plenty of time to find the next one.” Doug said, hoping it sounded encouraging, rather than patronizing. His comments  _ were _ a little ingenuine, but only because  _ he _ wanted to be the ‘next one’.

 

“I mean… Yeah… you and Venti are right, I guess… there’s a lot of people in the world and all that…” Dylas said reluctantly, still focused on his hands and the little rippled disturbances he was stirring up in the water. “But I… I want  _ this _ to work. I  _ want _ to be with Frey. All this talk about it as if she’s already… as if it’s already over…” He straightened up, back stiff, face a determined scowl. “I’m not giving up. I have to try everything I can, otherwise I’m always going to wonder if it could have been.” The resolve in his voice demoralized Doug—not that he allowed it to show. 

 

“ _ You idiot… She doesn’t love you…”  _ He thought miserably. He couldn’t tell him, of course. He’d never believe it from anyone but her. All he could do is watch Dylas walk straight into the fall that was absolutely coming, just a soon as Frey got around to dropping that bomb on his head. 

 

Suddenly, Dylas leaned forward, looking at Doug with a scrutinizing, vaguely suspicious expression. Perhaps he’d noticed the way the dwarf had drooped a little. The stare lasted one…two… four panic-inducing seconds. It was a damn good thing he was sitting in a very hot bath, or the once-guardian would have clearly seen the small dwarven man sweating. 

 

“How’d we get to talking about me, anyway?” Dylas said suddenly, “I thought we were deciding what  _ you _ should be doing with your love triangle situation?” 

 

“Oh. Heh. Well… thinking about your stuff is helpful too, since you’re in a kinda similar place.” Doug floundered. 

 

“So, like…” Dylas said, tone suddenly shifting back to curiosity, “Did you get shot down, or…”

 

“Oh, um… well I ain’t exactly confessed to them, yet.” Doug said, hugging his knees and looking away. Once again his flustered state was his own, rather than an act.

 

“I see…” Dylas replied, “Well… if they’re so wrapped up in someone else, I can understand why you wouldn’t, but… if they don’t know, then they aren’t really even getting the opportunity to say yes, so you can’t know for sure until you do tell them.” 

 

Doug sighed, stomach in knots. “I’m… not totally sure they even like guys…” He heard himself say. His eyes widened and his stomach clenched. “ _ You damned idiot! You’re giving away too much! Do you want him to find out like  _ this _?!”  _ Dylas looked at him, surprised. 

 

“Oh.” He said, brows raised. “Well, that is a problem…” 

 

“Yeah…” Doug said.

 

“Well, if she’s into women, there’s nothing you can do about that but wait for your crush to wear off, I guess.” Dylas said lamely. “Sorry. I don’t know if there’s any other advice to give.” 

 

“Well, I mean… lots of people like men  _ and _ women…” Doug protested meekly, knowing he was just desperate to hold onto hope, “So, you know… I haven’t given up completely yet.” 

 

Dylas looked thoughtful. “That’s fair. I’ve never really had a strong preference for one over the other, so I get it.” Doug nearly broke his neck turning instantly to level a shocked stare at Dylas, his face crimson. 

 

“Y-you?” He spluttered. Dylas blinked at him.

 

“Well, yeah. Is that surprising? You just said—” 

 

“I know. Sorry! I just—I never really got that impression from you.” He fumbled, trying to smother his sudden soaring excitement. Dylas  _ did _ like men! He could have laughed out loud for joy, but he  _ didn’t,  _ of course. 

 

“Oh. Well yeah. Like I said, I didn’t expect anyone to be interested in dating me, regardless of their plumbing. So I ain’t exactly been advertising.” Dylas grumbled. This time Doug did allow himself a laugh. That earned him a glare from his crush. “What?” Dylas demanded. 

 

“Sorry,” Doug said, rubbing at his eye with the heel of one hand. “It’s just… you’re so worried you won’t find even one person who’d date you, but the pool of people you’re open to dating is, like… everyone! Hahaha!” Dylas blushed and gave a couple abortive attempts to counter Doug’s comment, but in the end he simply ‘hmphed’ and looked away, brooding and blushing, obvious despite the heat of the bath. Doug grinned at the other man. “Cheer up, Dylas. I have a good feeling. I think maybe there’s hope for both of us.” He beamed. Dylas looked back at him, blinking. 

 

“D’ya really think so?” He ventured. Doug nodded, grinning from pointed ear to pointed ear. 

 

“Yeah!” 

 

“Hm.” Dylas allowed a half-smile—a real one, even—to tug on one side of his mouth. “Well, that’s good news.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where my Doug/Dylas people at?? This chapter is for youuu! (And also to continue to set up their dynamic and relationship.) I’ve had more fun than I expected to writing this pair in this fic. I’m glad I’ve finally figured out a context in which I can sympathize with both these goofs and also squish them together. Let me know what you think of all this Doug/Dylas in the comments and thank you as always for reading!


	16. The Way Back

“What I could really use,” Frey said slyly as the last remaining customer in the shop left, letting the heavy door click shut behind him, “Is a scheme for getting you out of work more often so we have time alone together.” 

 

“No scheme required for that.” Bado chuckled, swapping the door’s sign to ‘closed’ and bolting the thing before stepping back over to her. “But don’t forget you promised not to put the moves on me tonight, Fireflower.” He grinned slyly. 

 

“How about some cuddling, then? I really liked cozying up with you last night, even if my memory is slightly foggy.” She smirked. 

 

“Sure. I certainly ain’t opposed to cuddlin’. But, I hope you’ll be open to doin’ it somewhere other than the floor…” He made a show of rubbing a big hand on the small of his back and wincing. Frey’s smirk sharpened. 

 

“Are you inviting me into your bedroom, good sir?” 

 

“It’s, uh, more of the shop’s storeroom than anything else.” He laughed, “but there is a bed in there, yes. A  _ big _ one, to have room enough for yours truly.” Frey giggled and sauntered past her new lover toward the draped doorway to his living quarters at the back of the shop. 

 

“Well that sounds good enough to snuggle on.” She allowed in an exaggerated attitude of acquiescence. Inside her the giddiness of new love was almost as intoxicating as that foul whiskey he’d shared with her the night before.

 

The big man followed her through the doorway with a little breath of laughter. A moment later she understood his joke about it being more of a stockroom. Bado’s living quarters were… well, ‘cluttered’ was probably the kindest way to put it. Odds and ends of every variety rested haphazardly on every surface, shelf, counter, and table. His tendency to stock his blacksmith’s shop with all sorts of random product, almost as if it were a curiosity shop, was reflected here with vivid clarity. A long two-handed claymore with a plainly blunt edge lay diagonally across his kitchen table, the hilt half buried beneath an odd assortment of hats and gloves. The dark bottle of whiskey from before also sat upon the table next to some knickknacks shaped like silver wolves. Frey’s stomach made a squirm of protest when she recognized the thing. She looked back over her shoulder at the big man behind her and he gave her an embarrassed shrug. 

 

“It just kinda happens when you’re a bachelor,” he said abashedly, “…and when ya don’t have a squad of butlers.” He added with a mischievous grin. She ‘hmphed’ and stuck her nose in the air, peeking through a cracked eyelid to see his reaction to her act. He chuckled again and took a step toward her. She moved to get out of his way but he mirrored her motion and scooped her up in his huge arms. Frey gave a squeak of surprise and then a giddy little laugh as he carried her across the room in three strides of his long legs. The princess of Selphia gave a shrill gasp and clung to him as the tall dwarven man dropped himself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He deposited her in his lap with a grin and leaned back on his hands. 

 

“Damn, you weren’t kidding.” She said as she peered around his shoulder and eyeballed the sprawling surface of his extra large bed. Reaching down, she tugged off her boots and crawled onto the mattress, flopping down in the blankets, faded and threadbare and  _ soft _ as only such long use could create. His scent enveloped her, filling her up with a warm, relaxed swell of contentment. With an approving ‘hm’, Bado removed his own boots and swung his legs up onto the bed, settling himself beside her and folding his hands behind his head. 

 

“I could get used to this.” She hummed happily, scooting over to snuggle against his warm, bulky body. “Even my bed in the royal suite isn’t  _ this _ big.” 

 

“The royal suite was never intended to house a big, overgrown fool like me.” He grinned. 

 

“Perhaps I should have one like this made for my room too, then.” She said thoughtfully. “I daresay you wouldn’t like sleeping on my bed as it is now. Your legs would be hanging over the footboard. 

 

“You, uh… seem pretty eager about all this, Frey. It might be a little early to be makin’ those kinda plans.” He said, a tentative air in his words.

 

“I told you: I suck at being patient.” She said, smiling. Then she noticed his expression: a vague bewilderment etched into the lines in his face. She propped herself up on her elbow and stared at him, her own expression growing fretful. “Bado?” 

 

“Hm?” He looked at her as if he’d been snapped out of a deep thought. 

 

“What’s the matter?” 

 

“I… well, I…” He fumbled, “I’m not really sure how to say it. I don’t want you to run away with the wrong idea.” She shrugged in reply to this. 

 

“Try me.” 

 

The big man stared at her uncertainly, chewing his lip for another beat before he drew in a breath and spoke, carefully: 

 

“It’s tough to change, sweetheart. It doesn’t usually happen overnight and when it does, it can be a jarring experience. I don’t want ya to feel like you’ve got to rush into anything. You’re still tryin’a work through a lot’o stuff concerning Dylas. Ya need time for that. Ya don’t gotta try and force yourself t’be ready for the next thing.”

 

“By which you mean you?” She replied, tone light. He nodded. 

 

“Like I said before, if what you need to process all this is a rebound, I’m up for it. I get it. I’m just glad to have any kind’a chance with ya.”

 

“It’s not like that, Bado.” She said earnestly, “You’re right about me needing to work through all the things that have happened with him, but my feelings for you aren’t just some side effect of all that. I  _ want _ to imagine this working out in the long run. I  _ want _ to bet on you.” She wriggled close beside him again, draping one folded arm over his chest and resting her chin on it so she could see his face. “I  _ really _ like you, Bado. It’s not that I just want another man right away. It’s that I want to spend more time with  _ you _ . If anything, I’m extra impatient because I’m furious with myself for not noticing you this way a long time ago!” 

 

The big dwarven man stared at her, a suggestion of vulnerability in his expression, as if he were teetering between choices. Silently Frey prayed he would choose to have faith in her feelings for him and their chances to be happy together. 

 

“I just don’t want ya t’be disappointed when ya figure out I’m nothin’ special.” He murmured quietly, eyes searching hers. “I don’t really deserve ya, Frey. I’m just catchin’ some unusually good luck, I think.” 

 

The princess of Selphia hoisted herself up and resettled her upper body onto his big, broad chest. She leaned in close and studied the lines of the man’s face. Crow’s feet and smile lines… tired eyes and scars, seen and unseen… She brought her slender fingertips close and traced the angles of his face very slowly with a light, delicate touch. This time she was careful to avoid his ears, knowing they were for him a rather more  _ intimate  _ zone. 

 

“You  _ are _ something special.” She said very softly, so close to him now. “At least to me.” His brow furrowed ever so slightly and his lips parted to speak—some kind of protest, she was sure. Her slender fingertips moved to his mouth, gently pressing to stop his objection. “No…” She whispered, “I already know you’re just a mortal man, Bado. You don’t have to be more than that. You are more than enough just as you are.” 

 

“Frey…” He breathed, moving a big, warm hand to caress her cheek. She leaned into the touch, turning her head and brushing his fingers with her lips. He shifted into a sitting position and pulled her to him as she mirrored him, nuzzling and kissing her face with an eager air to his gentle manner. She smiled, letting her eyes flutter closed and turning her head into his motions until she found his lips with hers. 

 

The warmth and softness of his touch sparked a wave of euphoria as he returned her kiss. She could  _ feel _ his gratitude and affection in the way he moved, the way he savored her, breathing soft voiced sighs between kisses, smoothing his hands over her back and sides. Frey moved with him, caressing his bearded jaw and drinking in the warmth and pleasure of his touch. Again and again they pressed their mouths  together, growing warmer, kissing more deeply as their breath grew shorter. The fire inside her begged for him, wanting more: Wanting to feel his hands trace over her bare skin, rather than through her clothing, wanting to nurture this newfound fever for him. She whimpered quietly and he twitched as he heard it; as if spurred on, he drew in a deep breath and pressed his lips to her neck, just below her ear. She shivered, tickled by his breath whispering against her skin and drowning in the heat of his mouth on her. The big man hummed approvingly in his deep, resonant voice as he kissed his way down her neck. She tilted her head back, opening the angle of her throat to him and fretting her brow in a pleading expression. His lips parted against her skin and he dragged his tongue up the contour of her throat, pulling a shaky gasp from her lips. 

 

An electric pulse of arousal shot through Selphia’s acting princess as her new lover teased her with his tongue. She burned for him as she never had for another, as far as she knew. Certainly she’d never been so drunk with desire during the limited extent of her intimate experimentation with Dylas. Perhaps somewhere in her forgotten past she’d enjoyed the touch of a gentle, passionate lover. She could not say. It hardly seemed to matter in this moment though. She arched backward in the grasp of his big, warm hands, gasping as he grazed her throat with his teeth between kisses and another stroke of his tongue on her skin. Beneath the fabric of her clothing her nipples hardened, her flower grew wet, and the heat in her body threatened to overwhelm her. 

 

“No fair.” She panted, voice almost lost in her breathy exhalations. He paused, looking into her husky expression and smiling a crooked, wolffish smile. “You made me promise not to put the moves on you.” She reminded him. “Didn’t you want to wait?” 

 

“Yeah.” He breathed, “But I never said I wasn’t tempted, fireflower.” She exhaled a hint of a laugh, raising a hand to stroke the side of his handsome face again. She was certainly willing to respect his boundaries, but at the same time it was  _ extremely _ gratifying to hear the desire in his deep, resonant voice, to feel his hunger for her as he tormented her with his lips and tongue…

 

“Sorry for teasing you.” He murmured, not sounding very sorry  _ at all _ . The satisfied grin stretching his mouth, cutting those smile lines deep into his face, set her heart a flutter. 

 

“I’ll let it slide this time.” She replied, keeping the dreamy, languid tone in her voice. He ‘hmmed’ a contented note and leaned back down onto the mattress, coaxing her with his hands to settle down beside him once more. She happily complied, pillowing her head on his thick arm and reveling in the warmth of the big man. He always seemed  _ so _ warm. Was it just his size or did it have to do with being a dwarf? Someday she would have to find out all the little quirks of his race. The thing about his ears sure was a useful snipped of information. She smirked as she mentally filed away a plan to overwhelm him with  _ plenty _ of attention paid to his pointed ears someday when he was ready to take their relationship to more intimate levels. In the meantime,  _ this _ was plenty enjoyable, she thought as she snuggled close to him, listening to his breathing and enjoying every moment of this decadent escape from her worries. 

 

She dozed in and out of consciousness, murmuring contented sleepy nothings to  her new lover as he slowly stroked her arm draped across his chest with a gentle touch. The light coming through the window faded slowly as evening approached, the days growing short in the face of the oncoming winter. Oh, how delightful it would be to sleep next to him in the snowy months! She smiled at the thought with a giddy satisfaction. 

 

“You probably oughta think about heading home sometime soon.” Bado said gently after another long stretch of quiet, sleepy cuddling. Feeling resentful of the idea, Frey gripped him with one arm and held on tightly. 

 

“I can just gate home with my return spell later.” She murmured, muffled, into his chest. The big man chuckled. 

 

“More magic? You sure it’ll work in my house?” Frey raised her head and looked thoughtfully at him. 

 

“Now that you mention it…” She mused. Her ‘return’ spell required a high degree of familiarity with the place she was looking to arrive at. The easiest place to come back to was her own room, but the entrance to the town was also a place she’d spent no small amount of mental energy committing to her memory so she could anchor the magic there. This place… Bado’s home, and the place where he’d come through for her time and time again until she’d fallen hopelessly in love with him… it had become a place of no small significance to her. She suddenly felt very confident she could bring herself back here by magic. 

 

The smell of the forge fire, the metallic scents of his trade, the odd assortment of goods all around dampening sound, the stone floor by the forge, the worn boards of the shop’s floor, the breeze that crossed the room through the windows he kept ajar, and the sound of his voice, warm and welcoming as he called out a greeting to her each time she stepped inside this odd, cluttered shop… She let her eyes close as she put it together into a special place in her mind. She could imagine standing in the workshop as she’d done so often recently, feeling the warmth from the direction of the forge, always alight. She could practically feel the worn, graying wood of Bado’s workbench beneath her fingertips, hear it creak when he settled down on the seat beside her. 

 

“Oh boy,” He said warily, “Careful with that stuff. I was only joking when I said you could knock me out anytime.” She opened her eyes and giggled. 

 

“I won’t cast it on you, don’t worry. But I think… I think I can do it.” She sat up on her heels and then climbed up out of his bed, standing before him and closing her eyes once more. “I’ll be right back…” She said, a smirk teasing her lips. “Return!” She said firmly, and vanished in a flash of light. Instantly she stood beside her own bed in her own room, dim and empty in her absence. She gave a satisfied giggle in the silent room and darted over to her personal kitchenette in the room adjacent. Plucking several hand-made Onigiri she’d recently prepared from the refrigerator, she piled them in a basket and composed herself, standing still in the center of the room once more.

 

“ _ Okay, now for the other way…” _ She thought, closing her eyes and concentrating. She didn’t want to keep her lovely new partner waiting too long, did she? Placing herself in the scene she’d mentally put together a moment ago in his room, she concentrated on the shop. It would not be possible to pull herself directly into his bedroom yet. After all, she’d only just seen the place for the first time today. But the rest of the odd dwarven man’s home was familiar enough to her by now. As she remembered the feel and smell and sound of the place to compliment her visual memory of the space, her confidence swelled and she murmured with a sly confidence: “Return.” 

 

Frey opened her eyes and smiled broadly, chest full of a deep breath of pride. Here she stood in the center of the front room of the ‘Meanderer’, right before the counter where Bado could so often be found jotting down ideas for his next money-making scheme. 

 

She gave a shrill cry of victory and pranced happily through the doorway back into his room, twirling in place before holding her arms out to either side as she presented her returned self to him. 

 

Bado grinned, looking her up and down. 

 

“Well I’ll be damned. You’d make a fine cat burgler, princess.” The big man jibed. 

 

“Not really,” She returned with a half-grin. “I can only gate to places I’m really familiar with and feel comfortable in.” 

 

Bado blinked at her, eyes softening as a quietly pleased expression settled in his features. 

 

“Well, you’re welcome anytime, whether ya use the door or make your own way in.” He said, voice warm. She smiled at him, blushing.

 

“Thanks.” She beamed at him.

 

“O’course.” 

 

“I  _ did _ raid my own fridge while I was there, though!” She chimed happily and presented the basket to him. “I’m feeling like a lazy dinner tonight. How about you?” 

 

“Uh,  _ always.”  _ He replied, grinning. 

 

“I thought so.” She giggled.

 

_ “I could really get used to this… I feel so comfortable around him. It’s such a nice change.”  _ Frey’s thoughts glowed warm in her chest as she looked at the man before her. So what if he was ‘too old’ for her, a lazy slacker, and a full-time schemer? He was also the person who made her feel restored rather than weary at the end of every meeting with him. All his words and actions concerning her had described his respect and care. If she ended up in hot water because of her new romantic entanglement with him, well… it sure seemed like it’d be worth it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some sweet, domestic fluff and a little magic, this time~ 
> 
> It’s always nice to have a little break from the drama now and then. But, this may be the calm before the storm, if you catch my drift. Somebody still needs to come clean to her boyfriend and tell him it’s over, after all.
> 
> The next chapter will mark the end of Part 1! WOOO! Then we can move into part 2 which will have PLENTY more Doug/Dylas and of course all the ongoing development of Frey/Bado’s relationship, not to mention gearing up for Part 3 and the climax of the larger story arc. I’m very excited to keep writing this tale. I hope y’all are on board for the long haul, as well. Thanks as always for reading and for all your kind notes to me and the Kudos as well, of course!


	17. The Break

“ _ Finally _ .” Dylas thought with an inward sigh of relief as Frey approached the shore of Dragon Lake where he had been sitting on a boulder surveying the shining surface of the bitterly cold water. This close to winter it was not a relaxing place for most, but the peace Dylas felt when he was here meant more to him than the comfort of a warm hearth back at Porcoline’s home. 

 

He’d concentrated so much on waiting, being patient, giving her space, just as Ventuswill had suggested. Trying to have faith that Frey, who hated to be in conflict with a friend, would come to him rather than simply avoid him for weeks on end, had been excruciating, but now his window had arrived. Now he could show her the best of him and fix all of this. He slid off the rock and stood before her, heart thumping.

 

“Hey…” He said, his posture and his voice nervous. His tail swished back and forth in an unconscious betrayal of his anxiety. Stupid thing. Since acquiring the new anatomy of a half-monster, he rarely found himself aware of it, just as one rarely  _ thinks _ about how to move their eyebrows. But in times like this, the reflexive motion of the thing felt like such a nuisance. 

 

“Hey…” She echoed. As she came to a stop before him, her posture was closed, uncomfortable; one hand crossed the front of her and gripped her other arm, the opposite hand clenched in a fist. Dylas swallowed, remembering Venti’s advice. ‘ _ Be a safe person for her to talk to…’  _ Valiantly he held in the storm of words writhing in his mind, trying to give her the space to say what she needed to.

 

“There’s… a lot I need to say to you.” Frey began, sounding reluctant. Dylas bit his tongue, forcing himself to keep still, except that damn tail which he apparently couldn’t control completely. She drew in a long breath and continued: “Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about our relationship and how we treat each other. Ever since that day you shouted at me, I feel like everything changed between us.”

 

“I know I screwed up with that…” Dylas said quietly, “I’ll do better…” Frey looked away.

 

“I know you want to… I think you could, given time… but…” She lapsed into silence, staring downward, chewing on her lip.

 

“Frey, I…” He began, taking a deep breath, “I just want this to work between us. I’ll do whatever it takes. I can change. I’ve been thinking a lot about it too. I know I’m the problem. But I care more about you than my pride. I’ll work on it. I promise.” He leaned toward her hopefully, all his earnest wish for harmony with his lover written in his eyes.

 

“Dylas…” She sighed, “There isn’t just  _ one _ problem. It isn’t just something  _ you _ need to fix. The fight is what started all this, but… I’ve realized I…” She stopped, brow furrowed, swallowing, blinking rapidly. He could see tears struggling to fill her eyes. Fear swept down his backbone. She looked up at him, eyes pained. “I don’t want this…” She whispered. 

 

“I don’t want to fight either!” He breathed hurriedly, desperation in his voice as he shook his head. “I don’t want to be at odds with you. I don’t want to be rude to you. I just want to go back to when things were good.” 

 

“No… I mean I don’t want  _ this…  _ I don’t want to struggle to force the two of us together if it doesn’t work between us. Things were good for a while but I can’t live like this, always feeling like I have no voice with you, like you can’t  _ see _ me for who I am.” She blinked rapidly again, dropped her gaze and whispered: “There’s no going back.”

 

“Can’t see you? No, Frey I—I  _ do _ see you. You’re  _ all _ I see these days. All I care about anymore is figuring out how to fix my mistakes with you. I know I jumped the gun with the proposal and you were spooked by it. That’s okay. It can wait. We don’t have to think about getting married until you’re ready.” 

 

“Stop it…” She breathed. He gently gripped her shoulders, voice pleading as he spoke: 

 

“Please, Frey. Please let me try to undo what I’ve done. Give me another chance. I’ll prove you’re the most important thing to me. I meant everything I said to you back at the restaurant. I don’t care how long it takes. Our engagement can be as long as you need.” 

 

“Stop!” She quailed, voice growing louder as it became more unsteady. Tears sparkled in her eyes. “You’re not listening! You never really listen to me! I’m telling you there’s no engagement! We’re not getting married, Dylas! Not ever!” 

 

Her words hit him like a slap in the face. He stumbled back a pace, releasing her.

 

“ _ This _ is why!” She gestured around them, frustration and grief lending a frantic air to her movements, “You don’t  _ know _ me because you only see what _ you _ want to be real. There’s no relationship between us anymore. I know you  _ want  _ this to work but it  _ doesn’t! _ I can’t trust you to hear me and believe what I say! You just come back at me with how  _ you _ want it to be. I don’t want this, Dylas! I can’t do it anymore.” 

 

“ _ No… this isn’t right… I…”  _ His thoughts protested. She’d said she loved him. She’d been the one to ask  _ him _ out, all those months ago. She  _ knew _ what kind of man he was. Why now… 

 

Through the fog of his confusion and panic a smudge of red in the background drew his gaze up, over Frey’s shoulder. Doug had walked into view along the path to the lakeshore. His face had shock plastered onto it. His silver-gray eyes darted between them, recognition shifting into place as he looked at Frey. Doug had said something, before… like he  _ knew _ Frey didn’t want him anymore… 

 

“I need someone who  _ listens  _ to me, Dylas.” Frey said, passion in her voice.

 

 ‘Listen… listen…  _ listen…’  _ She just kept hammering on that same word… Ventuswill had said something, the other day… ‘ _ If anything, Bado has probably been the person to whom she has turned to air her feelings about you _ .  _ If she does not feel she can really speak to you, then this is bound to happen _ ’ Something snapped inside Dylas as realization crystallized in his mind. Frey was still speaking: 

 

“I can’t always be pushing back, trying to get a word in—”

 

“This is about  _ him.”  _ Dylas hissed suddenly, cutting her off. He looked sharply up at her, trembling. 

 

“What?” She said, eyes widening.

 

“You’ve been going to  _ him _ all this time, talking into those pointy ears about everything I’ve done or said! He’s turned you against me!” Dylas’ voice grew louder. His breath came faster, sharper. 

 

“Dylas, stop it! No one ‘turned’ me. I’ve been upset because of the things  _ you’ve _ said to me!” Frey barked, her voice growing frantic.

 

“That… Bastard…” He gasped raggedly, shaking with anger, eyes darting back and forth. “I won’t—he can’t—” His words smashed into one another in his mind. Nothing was coming out right. The image of Selphia’s blacksmith glaring into him with those cold blue eyes hovered before him. 

 

‘ _ She’s not your fiancé. She didn’t say yes…”  _

 

“Rraaaauuugh!” Dylas suddenly roared, lunging forward. Frey gasped and dodged to the side as he passed, thundering down the path back to town without so much as a backward glance. Vaguely he saw Doug turn and reach out as he whipped past, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. That big bastard was going to  _ pay _ …

 

* * * * * 

Frey’s shout of protest evaporated into a startled gasp as Dylas shot past her, eyes unseeing, movements terribly jagged and rushed. She’d seen murder in his golden eyes as they stared, wide-eyed at someone who wasn’t here with them. She paused only a moment, sucking in a hurried breath before she sprang forward after him. 

 

She had to stop him. She  _ couldn’t  _ let Dylas fight Bado. At best, her violent ex would do her new lover as much harm as the half-monster could wreak on the big dwarven man. At worst, she’d lose them both… everything but her burning lungs went numb, a sense of unreality suffusing the air around her as her blood was flooded with adrenaline. Vaguely she registered a person on the path ahead as she ran, a red-headed someone, darting into her way, now. 

 

“Out of my way!” She barked shrilly. Doug braced himself and mirrored her weave to the right, catching her by the arms as she tried to slip past him. She gave a frantic, frustrated sound like a feral animal as his hands closed on her. She didn’t have time for this! She had to stop Dylas before—

 

“What did you say to him?” Doug demanded. “Did you tell him it’s over between you two?” His voice was urgent. Her frantic mind faintly wondered why he wanted to know, but that thought was so distant compared to the wild, desperate need to pursue Dylas before he reached her lover and dragged his past self out of the gentle, mild person he’d become. 

 

“GET OFF ME!” She screamed, thrashing. 

 

“Why? What do you need to go after him for? You’ve got someone new already! Just let him go!” Doug shot back, moving with her, refusing to release her wrists. Frey jerked to a stop, staring wide-eyed into the dwarf’s silver eyes for a beat before the one thing she desperately needed to do came back to her. 

 

“You don’t understand!” She hissed, pulling against his grip and thrashing, almost wild with panic. “I have to stop him!” 

 

“Stop—rrghh—him?” Doug growled in between bursts of effort to keep balanced while he held the struggling princess’ arms. 

 

“He’s going to try to fight him! I can’t let them—Rrrauugh! Just LET ME GO!!” She screamed. Doug’s eyes widened in fearful recognition, but Frey had no more time to worry over the red-headed dwarf’s understanding. An idea had popped into her head. It was risky, especially since this idiot was clamped onto her so tightly, but there was no alternative, now. She’d lost too much time. The smithy was only a few blocks away. At this rate, she’d never catch up before—

 

_ “Don’t think of that. Just concentrate on the place…”  _ She thought, pushing down the panic, trying to focus. Doug had settled too as soon as she stopped moving, but he did not release her. She hurriedly constructed the scene in her mind… the smell of the forge, iron and leather and coal… the dust on the shelves, the sound of the shop’s bell as the heavy oak door swung open… Bado’s home constructed itself around her in her mind’s eye. She held it, struggling to maintain the image as fear gnashed at the edges of her consciousness. 

 

“Frey, what the—” Doug started.

 

“Shutup!” She hissed vehemently.  

 

“ _ Just hold it a little longer… channel the runes…”  _ She opened herself up, a conduit to the energy of the earth and sky. Rune energy accelerated inside her as she directed it, shaping the spell. The obviously confused Doug still held her wrists tightly. It didn’t matter anymore. If the idiot was so determined, he was going to get dragged into this too. She didn’t have time to worry about him on top of the two men she was already desperate to protect from one another. 

 

“Fre—” Doug’s voice asked in a startled, panicked tone, cutting off as she barked: 

 

“RETURN!” 

 

A flash of light enveloped Selphia’s princess and the young dwarf who held on to her. Time and space were ripped away as the light snatched them up and pulled them  _ between _ existence. 

 

* * * * * 

 

Bado spun around in place as the front door crashed open with a huge ‘Bang!’. Already his instincts were triggered by the sudden sound of a threat in his midst. Adrenaline flooded his body and he raised his guard, body shifting automatically into stance, despite the fact hand-to-hand had never been his preferred fighting style. 

 

He blinked as he recognized Dylas as a blur of pale blue hair and a black coat. His jaw locked. 

 

“ _ NO. Can’t fight. Stand down!”  _ The clipped, but firm thought rang in his mind and he froze himself in place, fighting the urge to dodge and counter the blow that was coming. Tension, the struggle against his own will, burned in every muscle fiber across his body. His eyes widened as he commanded every last inch of him to hold fast, even as the iron-gauntleted fist of the half-monster came flying at him. Dylas’ shout sounded as wild and unhinged as his swing looked. There was no method to his attack, only rage. In an instant Bado knew Dylas had found out what had bloomed between Frey and himself. He braced inwardly to receive the blow.

 

_ “Ugh, this is gonna hurt like he—”  _ His thought was shattered by a tremendous flash of light detonating in front of him for the barest instant. Two figures stood where no one had been one blink before. Bado’s face distorted with the shock and terror that seized him as he recognized the emerald eyes and beautiful face of the woman he loved, suddenly before him. It was all too fast. Even as his brain sent the command to his body to  _ move _ , intercept the blow, snatch her out of harm’s way, do  _ something _ , she began to turn, recognizing the moment his eyes had snapped back to Dylas’ screaming assault behind her. All of it hung before him in a horrible distorted moment: a tapestry of chaos and tragedy. Then time caught up… 

 

Dylas’ armored fist collided with Frey’s skull. Her head snapped back and her whole body followed it, instantly limp. Terror drained all sensation from Bado’s body as he lunged forward, barely registering as he collided with what felt like a person between himself and the falling Frey. His knees thudded to the ground with force enough to bruise, but he could not feel it. Frey’s limp form landed in his arms, deadweight. She was out cold. His jaw clenched, his eyes wide, he stared at her, mind protesting reality as a blot of deep crimson grew, pooling in her hair, trickling across her pale, still face. 

 

“N-no! Wha—” A shaking, torn voice  sounded from somewhere in the room. Numbly, Bado’s attention snapped upward and landed on Dylas as the once-guardian stared, horrified at the woman he’d proposed marriage to just a few days prior. 

 

Fury, born anew after nearly two decades of restraint, ignited in the blacksmith’s soul. In one heartbeat it grew to an inferno inside him. In that instant he became two men: The lover who cradled the injured woman he adored above all others in his arms, and the fighter who was about to close his grip around Dylas throat until that miserable scrap of wrong and regret stopped moving forever… 

 

“How— I didn’t— She—” Dylas spluttered, reaching out toward Frey, hands trembling violently. “No!” He cried out, tears in his amber eyes. Dimly some part of Bado’s consciousness registered another person on the floor between the three of them: Doug had also apparently been transported here. The smaller dwarf scrambled to his feet and spun around spreading his arms wide as if to shield the taller Dylas behind him. For his part, Dylas hardly seemed to notice that the smaller man had put himself between him and the blacksmith. Doug’s silver eyes stretched wide, utterly terrified. He looked like his legs could barely hold him and his pupils were mere pinpoints within the reflective irises. 

 

Doug could see what was coming. Even as the fool he was throwing himself in front of to protect stared only down at the woman he’d struck, Doug  _ knew _ that the killer had awoken in the carefree, lazy blacksmith. 

 

Bado saw red, the pain in his clenched jaw some distant figment of his imaginings. All that was real was the enemy before him. The one for whom all this rage was burning. He would deliver it; this fury had a man’s name written in blood and fire upon it. Dylas…

 

The huge former knight rose and took a step forward, his breath a ragged growl. Something shifted in his big hands. Something soft… not a weapon. He needed these hands to  _ end _ that fool before him. He looked down. 

 

Frey’s delicate frame draped across his burly arms shot a shard of ice through his heart. He froze, looking down at her once more: the expressionless stillness of her beautiful face… the blood running over his right hand beneath her neck and shoulders, dripping onto the shop’s stone floor below. Fear and grief flooded him now, drowning the flame of fury and bloodlust to within an inch of its existence. Punishing Dylas did not matter in this moment. He had to get her to a medic  _ now. _

 

“I didn’t mean to—” Dylas gasped, reaching out to Frey, oblivious to Doug struggling to push him back, trying to keep distance between them and the huge dwarven man cradling the princess in front of them. The big blacksmith twisted, jerking his arms away from Dylas and clutching Frey against his chest protectively. He glared Daggers at her ex-boyfriend, anger of a saner variety still boiling his blood.

 

“Well ya  _ did!”  _ Bado snarled at the once-guardian.

 

“It was an accident!” Dylas wailed, struggling against Doug. 

 

“Story of your life, ya jackass.” Bado growled. He lunged forward, his left shoulder leading, and shoved the pair of younger men aside, sending them sprawling into a disorganized heap as he charged out the still-open front door, feet pounding the paving stones on his way to the clinic around the corner. 

 

End of Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last the storm has broken! What do you think? Was it as crazy as you expected? More so?? I am so so curious to know what you think of this chapter, the climax of Part 1!! 
> 
> Starting next chapter we’re in Part 2, which will be primarily focused on the growing and deepening bonds between our main characters (all four of them, yes.) I particularly love and find important the development of a relationship after the initial confession/getting together part. Romantic tension is jut lovely in stories, but historically we don’t spend enough time with couples once the romantic tension is resolved. 
> 
> Also does this count as a cliffhanger? I’m not entirely sure but I think it does. I was thinking of taking a short break but since my backlog is doing okay I don’t think I will. You’ll only have to wait one week to find out what will happen next ;)
> 
> Thanks, as always for reading and sharing your thoughts. You guys are so awesome and I’m so grateful to have such wonderful readers <3 This fandom is the best there is, I’m super convinced!


	18. The Wound

Nancy, nurse of the Little Bandage clinic, beloved wife of Dr. Jones, and adoptive parent to Dolce and by extension her little ghostly companion, Pico, startled as the door to the clinic banged open. Her hand jerked at the sound, blotting ink on the order form for medical supplies she had been working on. Her brow creased in irritation but as she looked up and saw the person who entered her eyes widened in surprise. 

 

It was  _ Bado _ , which was strange enough on its own; the big blacksmith was notorious for avoiding the clinic whenever he could. But, what really threw the nurse was the person draped across his burly arms as he strode urgently into the clinic proper. 

 

“Frey!” Nancy gasped, “Wha—” in a heartbeat she registered that the princess was unconscious, fear gripping her as she noticed the crimson blood around an ugly wound on the princess’ green-haired head. Nancy’s eyes hardened and she felt herself shift into crisis mode. 

 

“This way,” She commanded, ushering the huge dwarven man toward the examination table in the back of the clinic. “JONES!” She shouted so that it would carry upstairs. Bado gingerly laid the princess down on the table and hovered over her, looking more distressed than Nancy had seen him in a decade. She shoved aside her curiosity about the circumstances that had led the pair here together and focused on triage. She had to assist Jones in evaluating the princess as quickly as possible. With injuries like this, often time made the difference between a complete recovery and long term damage. She gently turned Frey’s head to the side, facing the wound upward and turning on the very bright lamp overhead. 

 

A moment later Jones’ hurried footsteps announced the doctor’s descent from the upper floor and entrance into the examination room. Nancy’s jaw clenched. It was going to be a tough one. Jones could not bear the sight of blood, and would retreat inside himself to get through the incident. She’d need to help him through those feelings later when he had time to feel them. 

 

“ _ No time for that now.”  _ She thought,  _ “Focus. _ ” 

 

“What happened?” Jones demanded, eyes darting between Nancy and Bado and then falling upon Frey on the table. The color drained out of Jones’ face, spurring a pang in her heart. She knew what was happening inside him as he steeled himself, expression becoming distant and hard. “Head wound. Blunt force trauma. Some lacerations.” He muttered in a continuous stream, voice low and toneless. He bent over Frey and gingerly turned her head a few degrees, looking closely at the wound as he moved her. 

 

Bado flinched, drawing in a sudden rasp of breath. His body angled toward Jones, tension in every fiber. The doctor did not notice the blacksmith’s change in demeanor but his wife did not miss the moment. 

 

“Bado,” She called, reaching out and touching the big man’s arm. He flinched again, turning sharply to look at her, eyes a cold metallic blue, their pupils constricted to pinpricks. Nancy’s eyes widened as she looked at the dwarven man. Old memories stirred inside her. Fifteen years past… a tall, muscular figure nonetheless gaunt of face. He almost never spoke and his eyes were hollow pools of misery. The nurse blinked rapidly. “What happened?” She asked quietly. A pained look flickered in the blacksmith’s face. He opened his mouth to speak—

 

BANG

 

For the second time in the last few minutes the door to the clinic slammed open, startling the three conscious people in the examination room. Bado spun in place, fists clenched, a fearsome look coming over his angular features. 

 

A confused jumble of voices tumbled into the room along with two figures struggling against one another. Dylas forced his way into the clinic against the interference of a struggling Doug, who clung to the other man, striving backward toward the door and pulling the once-guardian with all he had. 

 

“Ghrrra-STOP—DYLAS—Forcryin’outloud!!” He growled and spat as he tried to wrestle the half-monster back out of the clinic. “Let’sjussGO! Youc’nseeherLATER!” He gasped, but Dylas hardly noticed all his struggle and shouting. He craned his neck, darting his head back and forth as he tried to catch a glimpse of Frey on the table. Nancy blinked in surprise at the intrusion but as her mind caught up it made sense. Weren’t those two getting married someday soon? Of course he’d be upset. Of course he’d want to rush in and see her as soon as possible. 

 

A jagged, torn-edge sound, hardly recognizable as the voice of Selphia’s blacksmith sent a shiver of fear through Nancy. Her head whipped around back to Bado and she felt her stomach drop. 

 

His teeth clenched, body tense and trembling, eyes wide, a snarl ripping its way out from his lungs. She glimpsed his eyes and gasped as the huge man took a step toward Dylas, rage practically dripping from him.

 

She’d seen this monster before… back then. Tristan had warned her, warned them all what could happen if his young friend returned to the battlefield in his mind. Blood on the stones… the soldier who had drawn steel on the tall dwarven knight cowering… Tristan’s strong voice barking Bado’s surname and a simple command… 

 

“DRAMHAU! STAND DOWN!” Nancy bellowed, pulling her voice from deep, deep in her chest, just as Tristan had taught her.

 

Bado froze in place, twitched once, then shook his head, putting a hand up to cover one eye, fingers tangling in his always-mussed hair. Silence smothered the room. Everyone’s eyes fixed upon the big dwarven man. Even Doug stopped trying to wrestle Dylas out of the clinic as they all stared wide-eyed at Bado. Nancy held her breath. 

 

“I…” Bado said in a wavering version of his deep, basso voice. “I’m okay now.” He turned and walked back to the edge of the examination table and turned around to face Dylas and Doug once more. “But I ain’t letting  _ him _ near her.” He growled, pointing at Dylas. 

 

“Why on Earth not? He’s her—” Nancy began, sounding scandalized.

 

“He’s the one who hit her.” Bado interrupted, eyes glaring at Dylas all the while, still burning with anger though it was now in check, a sane thing. 

 

“What?” Nancy gasped, turning sharply to level a glare that demanded explanation at the once-guardian. She would have immediately denied it, unwilling to believe that Dylas would have struck his girlfriend at all, let alone hard enough to injure her like  _ this,  _ but… one of the other things she’d known about Bado since the early days of his residency in Selphia was that the man never told a direct lie. She was fairly sure he  _ couldn’t _ lie, actually, though she did not know precisely why. 

 

Dylas cowered, face cringing as he looked away. His immediate, blazing shame sent a chill through Nancy’s veins. It was true.  _ He  _ was the reason Frey was lying unconscious on that table, bleeding. Dylas bowed his head, grimacing as if he’d been stabbed. 

 

“It was an  _ accident _ .” He hissed, voice strangled. Tears fell from his eyes onto the floor and his whole body shook visibly. “I never meant—” 

 

“You set out to hurt someone,” Bado growled coldly, cutting Dylas off. “You have to own whatever comes when you raise your hand to strike a blow. Ya can’t take back a thrown punch.” 

 

Suddenly wary of Bado’s scarred past overtaking him again, and  _ furious _ with Dylas for striking a woman he supposedly loved, Nancy snapped to attention and channeled her commanding self again. 

 

“OUT!” She barked, pointing Doug and Dylas back out the door. Doug wasted no time in dragging a now unresisting and unresponsive Dylas backward until they vanished through the doorway.

 

Jones returned to his examination immediately without addressing the conflict he’d just witnessed. Bado turned about and loomed fretfully over Jones, but Nancy grabbed hold of his arm with a firm touch. He turned and looked at her questioningly.

 

“May I have a word?” She said, the words polite but her tone uncompromising. The big man shifted reluctantly in place but then nodded brusquely and allowed her to steer him away from the table. It wasn’t exactly going to make this a private conversation from Jones overhearing, but it would give the doctor space to finish examining Frey’s injury without this retired warhorse hovering right over him. 

 

“You are  _ not _ well, sir.” She intoned urgently as they faced one another near the front of the clinic. Bado stooped his shoulders and looked away. “What’s going on with you?” It’s been more than ten years since—”

 

“I know.” Bado said, low. “It’s bad. I’m doin’ the best I can, Nancy. It’s just been a difficult week.” He looked back toward the examination table and the young woman lying upon it. Nancy blinked, noting the man’s expression: sorrow, anxiety, uncertainty. 

 

“What happened, Bado? Why did Dylas hit her?” Bado turned his eyes back to Nancy without quite facing her, a bewildered look in them. His posture reluctant, he quietly cleared his throat and spoke:

 

“He was takin’ a swing at  _ me _ , actually. Frey got between us usin’ her magic. He hit her because she was in the way and he was too angry and wild to stop once he started.”

 

“And why was Dylas trying to hit  _ you _ ?” Nancy asked like a parent preparing to scold her son. The big man sealed his lips shut and looked sideways toward Frey again. Nancy’s fine eyebrows climbed high on her forehead as a notion took shape in her head. “Are you…  _ involved _ with her?” She asked, not bothering to hide her surprise. 

 

Bado winced. He looked almost like a dog that expected to be beaten.

 

“It’s a little complicated… but… yeah.” He admitted, rubbing one thick arm with his opposite hand, shoulders rounded and head half-bowed. Nancy gaped at him in wide-eyed shock. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came. Bado squirmed in place, clearly reluctant to explain himself. Suddenly Jones’ voice broke into their exchange once more: 

 

“We need to get Frey to Lady Ventuswill as soon as humanly possible.” The doctor said, voice firm and uncompromising. Nancy looked into her husband’s eyes with a concerned, questioning look. 

 

“Jones?” She asked, one hand coming up to her chest as her heart fluttered in fear. Beside her Bado shivered. 

 

“A good doctor has to be willing to step aside when magical means are the best course of action.” The doctor said firmly. “Medicine just doesn’t have adequate tools and procedures yet for certain scenarios. I believe  _ this _ is one of them. To prevent any long-term damage as much as possible, we will be soliciting the aid of our God.” He held out an arm to Bado, beckoning urgently. The big man nodded, wasting no time in gingerly scooping the princess into his big arms again and lifting her up against his chest. Jones waved them toward the door and all three of them strode quickly into the street. 

 

Nancy practically had to run to keep up with Bado's huge strides as he made use of those long legs. As she and Jones jogged along behind the big man, she looked sideways at her husband’s worried face.

 

“Jones, what did you see?” 

 

“It’s not certain, but I suspect she may be at risk for brain swelling.” He said under his breath, perhaps hoping Bado would not hear the unsettling diagnosis. Maybe the doctor  _ hadn’t _ missed what Nancy had seen and heard while he was examining Frey’s injury. “There is a surgical procedure that can be done to relieve the pressure, but…” He winced, “If Ventuswill can help her, then that is for the best. The risks of leaving this in my hands are more than I want to undergo.” Nancy nodded, her eyes landing on Bado’s broad back as the three of them hurried toward the castle. 

 

A few heart-pounding minutes later they passed through the great archway leading into the audience chamber of the Divine Wind. Ventuswill’s huge silhouette came into focus in a heartbeat as Nancy’s eyes adjusted to the dimmer light inside the enormous edifice. 

 

“What has happened?” The big dragon demanded, voice booming as her eyes snapped from one of her distressed subjects to the next. As her gaze fell on Frey she startled, her abundant plumage bristling momentarily before flattening down along her entire length in anxiety. “Frey!” She gasped. Jones stepped forward, wasting no time.

 

“Lady Ventuswill, I am concerned Frey’s life and long term health may be in Jeopardy due to this wound. I pray you will have mercy and heal her with your divine power, as I am not able with my limited ability to ensure her full recovery.” The doctor knelt before the dais as he finished, “Please!” 

 

Ventuswill stared at Jones for two heartbeats, some unseen thoughts seeming to pass across her big, dark, glossy eyes. 

 

“Yes. Of course.” She rumbled as quietly as such an enormous creature can. “Bring her.” She commanded, turning her plumed head toward Bado. The blacksmith stepped forward and laid Frey down carefully upon the stone dais, just shy of Ventuswill’s foreclaws. He looked up at the dragon with eyes full of sorrow and desperation. Ventuswill stared at him for a beat, plumes flaring upright upon her neck. Nancy wasn’t entirely sure how to read the body language of a dragon god, but her instincts told her Ventuswill knew something of Bado’s attachment to the princess without having to be told. 

 

The Divine Wind swiveled her long neck and lowered her reptilian head to hover just before the princess. Bado hesitantly stepped back, looking on nervously all the while. The room grew warmer, a vague otherworldly light shimmering green in the air around them. Ventuswill drew a great, long breath that belled out her scaly sides. She closed her eyes, brow furrowing, clawed toes flexing against the stones. The light grew yet more dazzling and a faint tone began to hum louder and louder around them. Nancy gasped as the spell reached a crescendo in the form of a bright flash of green-white light centering on the unconscious princess. She blinked rapidly as spots hovered in her vision from the sudden bombardment of light. Ventuswill gave an enormous, voiceless sigh and drooped toward the ground. The blacksmith, the doctor, and his wife all looked on in stunned silence as Selphia's god slumped down to the floor, her great head coming to rest near Frey as she settled with a low, tired rumble. 

 

“I am… not as young as I once was…” She said, low and weary. “But… she should be alright now…” The dragon’s large eyes fluttered closed and she relaxed into a sudden, exhausted sleep, her scaly sides rising and falling with her breath. Jones rushed forward and knelt beside the patient. He carefully turned her head and looked closely where the wound had been, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiping away blood. Nancy and Bado stepped forward too, looking on anxiously as Jones examined the princess. Before long he sighed with relief and looked up at his wife. 

 

“I do believe we made the right call.” He said, sounding tired. “Bado, sir, would you be so kind as to carry her to her bedroom? From here all she needs is rest.” Bado nodded, relief written plainly across his tired face. He stooped to pick up the petite woman once more, but stopped as she stirred with a quiet groan where she lay. 

 

Nancy drew in a sharp breath as Frey’s eyes fluttered open. It had been some years since she’d actually  _ seen _ Ventuswill heal someone. Jones was always adamant about respecting the dragon’s wish to see her people rely on their own ability and ingenuity wherever possible. She’d forgotten just what a miracle the great dragon’s magic was for a vulnerable mortal being. 

 

“Bado?” Frey murmured as her eyes found the man stooped over her. She blinked as if realizing something important and began to hoist herself up on her elbows. 

 

“Easy, there…” Bado breathed, quiet but urgent. He delicately pressed his big palms down on her slender shoulders until she lay back down. “You’re gonna be okay, Frey, but you need to rest.” 

 

“Are you alright? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” She demanded as urgently as her weakened state would allow. Nancy held her breath as she listened. Jones moved back a pace, but joined his wife in observing quietly. 

 

“Ah, Frey…” Bado said, sounding pained. “I’m just fine.” 

 

“And Dylas?” She continued, looking anxiously at him, “You didn’t—”

 

“No. No…” Bado sighed, “You’re the only one who got hurt, Frey.” His expression collapsed into a cringe. “I’m… I’m so sorry…” Frey gave a trembling sigh of relief. 

 

“Gods… I’m so glad.” She whispered, tears pooling in her eyes. “I thought…” She choked on her words and bit her lip. “I thought you’d kill each other…” Bado caught up one of her delicate hands in his own large, angular ones and shook his head, offering a reassuring, if fragile, smile.

 

“Nah… I told ya I wouldn’t hit him for takin’ a swing at me and I’m sturdy enough the likes o’ him ain’t gonna take me down.” He said quietly. Frey returned his smile and squeezed his big hand folded over hers. Her eyes shifted sideways now and widened as she saw Nancy and Jones looking on. They darted about until she realized where she was and her face shifted to confusion. 

 

“How did I end up here? And what happened to me?” She asked, blushing as she glanced again at the doctor and his wife. 

 

“You don’t remember?” Bado asked, voice worried. She shook her head. 

 

“I was trying to get to your shop before Dylas barged in and attacked you. He ran off after I told him it was over…” She winced. “I tried to explain things in a way that he’d understand… but, he just got focused on you again. I’m sorry.” Bado shook his head. 

 

“Don’t be. You were just tryin’ t’keep everyone in one piece.” He insisted, “You popped up between us with that magic o’ yours. He was already swinging by the time you appeared. You were caught up in it. Took a blind hit right to the head.” The blacksmith winced as he explained. Frey’s eyes widened, she put a hand to her head. 

 

“Is that why I have this headache?” She asked, smiling with an embarrassed chuckle. “Jeez.” 

 

“You were… you were in bad shape.” Bado added, voice low, eyes pained. “I rushed ya to Jones, an’ he insisted we come here and ask for Ventuswill’s help.” 

 

“Oh!” Frey piped, turning her head to look for the dragon. “Venti?” She called. Ventuswill did not stir, but she did snore a little. 

 

“It must have been a drain on her rune energy.” Jones said aloud, looking fretfully at the dragon. “I will notify Volkanon and ask if there is anything I can do to help her.” He turned to look down at Frey. “I do believe she saved your life, miss Frey. Be sure to show your gratitude by  _ resting _ in bed for at least two days. I’ll return to check on you and assess your recovery.” He nodded to Bado, confirming his earlier request. 

 

“I’ll help her get settled.” Nancy interjected, thoughts running quickly in her mind as she watched the princess and the blacksmith’s conversation. Jones nodded approvingly to his wife and turned to go and look for the head butler. She looked back to the big dwarven man kneeling beside the petit princess lying on her back on the stone floor. 

 

“We better get you to bed.” Bado offered, carefully gathering up the younger woman, who wrapped her arms around his neck as he hoisted her up. Her eyes hardly left his, a tender look about her as she gazed up at him. Nancy knew precisely what that look meant. She of all people would always know love when she saw it. She swallowed, falling in behind the broad back of the blacksmith as he carried the princess to her room. 

 

As they walked across Frey’s bedchamber Nancy’s thoughts turned without pause. Her heart fluttered as she watched the tall, bulky man carefully lower the princess into her bed with all the tenderness of a lover carrying his betrothed. 

 

“Don’t leave… please?” Frey said as he straightened up again. She looked up at him with a fragile, hopeful expression. He smiled gently.

 

“I ain’t goin’ anywhere. Don’t ya fret.” 

 

“Okay.” She smiled back at him, relaxing into the feather pillows behind her head. Then, noticing Nancy once more with a small surprised little ‘oh’, she sat up a little again. “Thank you, nurse Nancy.” She said, “And please thank Dr. Jones for me, too.” 

 

“Of course, dear.” Nancy bowed slightly, smiling warmly at Frey from a few paces away. “If you wouldn’t mind…” She added tentatively, “I’d like to borrow your companion in the next room, just for a moment.” Bado raised his eyebrows at her, but Frey nodded, laying back down, looking tired. The blacksmith glanced back at Frey for a beat, hesitating. Despite his reticence, through, he obliged Nancy’s beckoning gesture a moment later. She led him into the adjacent room—Frey’s workshop, complete with her own forge, crafting table, and a whole spread of cooking tools constituting a complete kitchen for her personal use. She turned around to face the blacksmith, finally letting her response bubble up to the surface now that the crisis had passed and she had a moment alone with the man. Tears swelled in her eyes and poured down her cheeks. 

 

“I’m… s-so…  _ happy _ for you!” Nancy burst out, voice distorted by her tears. The big man across from her donned an expression as if someone had tossed a porcupine in his direction, expecting him to catch it with his bare hands. 

 

“N-Nancy??” He stammered, eyes wide and confused. She hurriedly dabbed at her eyes with a pocket handkerchief, sniffling. 

 

“I’t just… It’s been so long since you—and with that business with Dylas at the clinic! I was so worried, but… Oh, it’s just so wonderful!” She sniffed, knowing full well she was babbling. 

 

“I… I’m a bit confused…” Bado said hesitantly, hands drawn halfway up into a placating gesture. 

 

“You’ve finally found  _ love _ !” Nancy gushed, gesturing in a half exasperated manner at him and laughing. A crimson flush came into his cheeks and ears. His big hands shot up and hushed her hurriedly 

 

“Hey! K-keep it down, will ya?” He stammered, looking half frantic.

 

“Why?” She returned, looking at him with a reprimanding expression. 

 

“ _ Because _ ,” he began, tone still hushed, “I don’t know if we’re ready to be  _ public _ about this yet. Plus… I… have some reservations… after today.” His posture sank dejectedly as he said it, his gaze falling to the floor. 

 

“What reservations?” She challenged. “I was watching her face in there, listening to her voice. She  _ clearly _ loves you! What more do you need?” 

 

“I need her to be  _ safe _ .” Bado replied, cringing. “Because of me she got hurt… could’a di—” He cut off, swallowing. His voice grew smaller, “It could’a gone real bad…” 

 

“Because of  _ you?”  _ Nancy returned, genuinely confused. He nodded grimly. 

 

“She was tryin’a protect me. Dylas wanted to lay  _ me _ out cold. He was swingin’ at  _ me.  _ If it weren’t for me, she’d’a never been in danger.” He said, voice heavy. Nancy gave him a flat look. 

 

“That’s nonsense.” She said simply. “You’re attributing things to yourself that you had no control over.” 

 

“But—” 

 

“No.” She interrupted, holding up a finger, “Would you have taken a hit to protect  _ her _ ?” She demanded. 

 

“Well, yeah! O’course!” He defied her. She smiled triumphantly. 

 

“And does that mean  _ you _ aren’t safe as long as you’re with her?” 

 

“That’s different.” He growled.

 

“It  _ isn’t _ .” 

 

“I’m a  _ big _ guy and I know how to handle myself in a fight. She’s just a tiny little thing. She’s…”

 

“Don’t finish that thought.” Nancy interrupted, forestalling him with a raised hand. “You’re underestimating her. Today was a fluke.” 

 

“She  _ did _ get hurt. This ain’t just in my head, Nancy.” He countered. 

 

“Anyone could get hurt if they don’t have time to react, even  _ you _ , big guy.” She said reasonably. “In any other situation, she’s more than capable of defending herself—not that I want her at risk any more than you do. I’m just trying to stop you from hesitating about the best thing that’s happened to you since you came here!” 

 

“You’re really on my case, all of a sudden, aincha?” He bent an eyebrow at her. She rolled her eyes. 

 

“Oh, please. I  _ remember _ what you were like when Tristan brought you to Selphia, Bado. You can’t pretend in front of me.” He blinked at her, frowning, wheels turning behind his blue-gray eyes. “I never thought the day would come but you  _ found _ someone!”

 

“You jus’ wanna see  _ everyone _ paired up.” He scoffed. 

 

“Of course I do! Everyone deserves to be happy and have a partner they’re happy  _ with _ . But you are a special case. You  _ need _ her, Bado!” Nancy insisted. He stilled, staring at her for a long moment. 

 

“Maybe…” He allowed reluctantly, “but she don’t need a tired old—”

 

“Let  _ her _ decide what she needs, what she wants.” Nancy said, smiling sympathetically. “You’re overthinking this. Just let her love you.” He looked at her, bewildered. She drew a breath, steadying herself.

 

“You’re not well, Bado.” She said gently, “You almost lost control today.” 

 

“I know.” He growled, looking away with clenched teeth. 

 

“All this time… and then a little rivalry with Dylas over her sent you right back there…” 

 

“I  _ know _ !” He hissed. 

 

“And do you know  _ this _ is what could help you finally heal from all of that?” She said gently. He looked up at her, searching. She smiled a small, encouraging smile at him. “Love can make you into more than you were. You can keep on being half-man, half-ghost forever, or you can become something new.” 

 

“How’s that?” He asked, sounding skeptical. 

 

“You want to be worthy of her?” She asked, raising her eyebrows at him. His eyes flickered away and back again and he shifted in place, blushing. Nancy grinned. His body language was as good as admitting it was true. “It’s good motivation. Plus, if you can accept that she loves you as you are, you also have to accept that you  _ are _ worth your own effort to change.” Bado shook his head, eyes pained. 

 

“I’m gonna screw this up, Nancy.” He said miserably, “I know it. When I think about bein’ with her, it’s… it’s the most alive I’ve felt in a decade, but… It also feels like I’m takin’ somethin’ that ain’t mine.” 

 

Nancy shook her head, sighing. 

 

“You can’t steal what’s freely given to you.” She said gently. “I know you’re not used to thinking you deserve to be happy, but just… just go back in there and look at her when she talks to you. I know you aren’t capable of real dishonesty, Bado. You didn’t trick her into looking at you like that. I’m guessing you already know she loves you for a reason, somewhere in that thick skull of yours. Just try to keep it in mind, and don’t do anything stupid like pushing her away.” He heaved a big, tired sigh. 

 

“I’ll try, Nancy. But even if I wanna change… fix the broken parts o’ me… I ain’t got any idea how.” 

 

“You’ll figure it out. And, she can probably give you some good ideas on that front, too.” She smiled. 

 

“If you say so.” He huffed with a small, weary laugh. 

 

“I do say so. And I also say: congratulations, Bado. Really, I’m thrilled you’ve found someone to love. You’ve been punishing yourself for your past long enough. It’s time to heal.” 

 

“I… well… thanks.” He said, looking sheepish, but cracking a little ghost of a smile. “I’ll give it my all.” 

 

“Good.” She nodded, then tilted her head toward the doorway. “One question, though…” She added, a darker train of thought crossing her mind. 

 

“Hm?” 

 

“You said you’re not sure if you two are ready to be public about your relationship. Is that because of Dylas? How long has she been seeing both of you?” 

 

“We…um… we kinda just barely started seein’ each other that way. Remember that fight the two o’ them had last week?” She nodded. “Well, that was the beginning of the end for them as a couple. Since then she’d been comin’ to me more and more, needin’ to talk to somebody about it all. We just sorta…” he held his two hands up before him and pushed them together, threading his fingers between one another. “Couple days ago she let her feelings show a bit and we ended up kissin’.” He looked up at Nancy, blinking confusedly. “Can’t believe it’s only been a week or so… So much has happened…” 

 

“Yeah, sounds like love, all right.” She smirked, remembering a month in spring many years ago that felt like a year by itself. “I’m glad you haven’t been having a  _ prolonged _ affair behind Dylas’ back.” She added, a disapproving tone in her voice. He shrank a little. “Nah… she wanted to break it off with him as soon as she admitted she has feelings for me.” He said, blushing. “It’s just been tough for her. You know how she is… doesn’t wanna hurt anyone…” 

 

“Yes…” She agreed quietly. “I suppose even if her love for him has withered, she still cares about the boy.” Bado nodded, his jaw tense. “But I take it today’s events mean they’ve split up, officially? Why would you still need to be secretive about it now?” 

 

“I… I need to talk to her about it.” He said thoughtfully, “I don’t understand her feelings completely, but… I think maybe she just wants a break from everyone’s ideas about her love life.” Nancy tilted her head, curiosity piqued. He gave her a bewildered look. “I dunno how much I should say about this. It’s just been hard for her, with everything that’s been happening lately.” 

 

“Alright. No need to say more than you’re comfortable saying.” Nancy said graciously. “I was simply curious why you would want to hide such a wonderful thing.” 

 

“It’s been a whirlwind.” The blacksmith sighed. “I think we all just need a moment to catch our breath and maybe process things a bit. Whatever comes next… well, we’ll take it one day at a time, I guess.” 

 

“A good approach.” Nancy smiled. “Well, I appreciate you bearing with all my enthusiasm and the questions. I truly am very excited for you. I think this could really be what finally helps you become whole again.” 

 

“Whole…” He echoed, “I ain’t sure I ever  _ have _ been ‘whole’, but… thanks, Nancy… I’m a little scared to hope for anything big, but I’ll start by bein’ grateful for what I’ been given already.” She nodded approvingly. 

 

“Good enough for now. Now you’d better get back in there. You did promise to stay with her a few minutes ago, after all.” 

 

“True enough.” He said, a smirk tugging on one side of his mouth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll bet you weren’t expecting this chapter to be written in Nancy’s point of view! Hahaha! She’s just such an excellent tertiary character for a love story. I can’t resist putting her in, especially to scold and lecture and squeal over the lovebirds. XD
> 
> We’re getting further and further into Bado backstory territory. I hope you enjoy exploring that type of thing as it comes up! I imagine there’ll also be a fair amount of Dylas backstory tidbits too as we go along. 
> 
> In my headcanon, it’s Bado’s core personality, who he was born to be, that can’t gel with being a destroyer. No matter how good he got at combat, he was always going to deteriorate as long as he stayed on that path. It was just too counter to his essential nature. He is, at the heart of him, a gentle creature. 
> 
> Thanks for reading this long chapter! I hope you enjoyed it! What do you think of Nancy’s hidden Bado-taming ability? XD let me know all your notions in the comments! I love to hear your thoughts. 💕


	19. The Mending

Bado escorted Nancy to the entrance of the hallway leading to Ventuswill’s audience chamber, bid her a friendly goodbye and walked back toward Frey’s rooms. 

 

Somehow it was always easy for him to forget there were still people in this town that had seen him at his worst, back then. Maybe it was simply because he, himself preferred to forget it as often as possible.

 

Nancy’s words kept tumbling around in his already scrambled brain. Unfortunately, there was nowhere for them to go yet. The stress that had already come close to undoing him this morning had expended his ability to think through such things. A bone-deep weariness began to settle in his limbs. He sighed softly to himself as he planted his big feet one after another along the hallway, back to Frey’s bedside. 

 

He  _ was _ grateful to Nancy. Her joy upon learning of the love that had bloomed between himself and the princess of Selphia was an unexpected boon and a bolster to his anxious heart. If she could see it as something to celebrate perhaps they would not be as burdened by people’s perceptions as he’d supposed. He’d promised to try his best and he  _ would _ , by the gods. But, none of that changed the apprehension in his gut, the fear that all of this was beyond him… that he was not  _ capable _ of being the man he wanted to be for her. And, there was one other problem: he could not be trusted…

 

Bado did his best to smother his fears for the moment as he stepped through the doorway to Frey’s rooms where they were arranged together in the East wing. He needed to be present for her now and do what he could to aid her recovery. Ventuswill had shielded her from the worst possible outcomes of her injury, but being healed did not take away the fatigue and stress of having experienced trauma in the first place. He knew from experience the fragile state she’d be in. The big man steeled his resolve to be his best self for her despite his own fatigue and passed into her bedroom. 

 

Frey looked up as Bado’s tall silhouette appeared in the doorway to her room. Her shining emerald eyes  softened as she saw him, raising a fluttering sensation in his heart. As he stepped in the room and his tired face was illuminated by her lamps he smiled at her: it was a brave little smile, genuine of feeling but burdened by a mountain of things that made the smile itself difficult to perform. She sat up and reached out to him. 

 

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’.” He chuckled softly, “Just hold your horses.” He gingerly sat upon the edge of her bed, taking her outstretched hands and squeezing them as he gazed at her. “I told ya I’d stay, didn’t I?”

 

“Yeah.” She replied, voice quiet. “Thank you.” 

 

“O’course.” He murmured, staring into her eyes. 

 

“Well… it sure could’ve gone better, but… I’m officially broken up with Dylas now.”

 

“Yeah.” He agreed, “Definitely could’a gone a bit smoother.” 

 

“So… do you still want to… to date? Officially, I mean?” She looked up at him nervously as if she expected to be turned down. Bado’s heart skipped, stuttering its rhythm. His eyes burned briefly and he swallowed. All his concerns and reservations could go to hell for the moment, he thought. There was no way he’d ever refuse her. There was no way he  _ could _ refuse her, looking at him like that…

 

“I still can’t believe ya wanna go out with me for real, Frey.” He said, a hapless ghost of a laugh in his voice, “Of course I still want to.” She smiled at him, eyes alight with joy, despite her exhausted state. He melted by degrees, hopelessly baffled by her determination to enter into a romance with him. Even so, the humble gratitude that welled up from deep inside him propped up his will. 

 

When her big, shining emerald eyes fixed upon him, all the affection and hopeful appraisal in her expression focused on  _ him _ somehow, well… it was as if ‘belonging’ had nothing to do with  _ where _ he was anymore. If he could belong to  _ her _ … then maybe he really could get better. 

 

Frey sat up and leaned toward him. 

 

“Kiss me?” She ventured. He gave her a warning look. 

 

“Don’t get any ideas, Fireflower. You  _ literally _ have a concussion. I ain’t riskin’ makin’ your condition worse.” He said warily. She rolled her eyes.

 

“One little kiss won’t make my brain turn to mush, Bado.” 

 

“What if it’s a  _ really _ good one, though?” He countered, letting his mischievous side out. “I gotta be careful not to give ya the best kisses I’m capable of. You can’t afford to have your head spin right now.” 

 

“Come here!” She laughed, exasperated, and seized his collar, tugging him toward her. He obliged, leaning in and meeting her lips with his for a long,  _ wonderful _ moment. The warmth of her sent a pulse of contentment through him as they lingered in the kiss. It soothed him—and gods knew he could use that right about now. 

 

Two things he knew for certain: He wanted things to work out with Frey, no matter his misgivings, and also… he had a problem that he  _ had _ to deal with, lest it become a danger to her too. His insides squirmed at the thought of agreeing to advance the intimacy between them while his past continued to haunt him to a dangerous degree, as was proven today. He was betting on his ability to somehow banish the monster that he had been before he had the opportunity to frighten or hurt her and  _ that _ was not a gamble he wanted to make. But… her hopeful gaze was too much the stuff of his dreams. He could not push her away, as Nancy feared he might. Part of him wanted to, the better to keep her out of harm’s way, but all the tears she’d shed on his shoulder this past week… he could never abandon her after she’d come to rely on him that way. That would be to  _ guarantee  _ hurting her, rather than just risking it. So, he let himself enjoy the kiss, then gave her another, and another until she hummed appreciatively against his mouth, sending a shiver of arousal through his large frame. 

 

As always,  _ that _ aspect of his feelings for her caused him trouble. The light, fluttering feeling in his stomach, the fog of desire beginning to cloud his mind, the warmth and sensation of physical arousal stirring in his body… He broke the kiss and leaned back, knowing his ears had already turned a vivid red. 

 

It hadn’t been his own reluctance regarding intimacy that had prompted him to forestall her very forward attentions the day they’d first kissed. True, he delighted in savoring these little tastes of her, rather than diving headlong into a ravenous  _ feast _ of desire, as it would have been had they let their mutual attraction run wild back then. But, he also would have enjoyed that outcome… Regardless, he could not quite believe her ready to step into that intimate circle with him. She was an emotionally jumbled mess inside, following all the conflict with Dylas, the second guessing herself, the battle to finally acknowledge what she truly wanted to do and accept it. It just wouldn’t have been right to take advantage of her confusion and impatience. Better that he wait until she came to him after all this had time to settle down, warm and ready and at peace in her mind. Oh, he was looking forward to it; that much was certain. 

 

Frey looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, her own desire overpowering her fatigue. Bado bent a sympathetic smile at his diminutive lover where she sat upon her bed. 

 

“I promise I won’t just tease ya forever, Fireflower. I’ll be sure to reward all that patience  _ very  _ well when the time comes.” He brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes, drinking in the sight of her with softened eyes. She blinked slowly up at him, her own emerald irises shining with a blend of emotion. 

 

“When?” She murmured.

 

“When we’re ready. When it feels right. At the very least, once I’m convinced you’re all healed up from this incident.” He said gently, caressing her cheek. She made a show of pouting, tucking her chin down toward her chest and peering up at him with those big green eyes, but her smirk betrayed her jest. He laughed gently. “It’ll be worth the wait, sweetheart. I’ll make sure of that.”

 

“I know you will.” She purred, wrapping arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. He held her delicately, privately still shaken by seeing her injured earlier. Loving someone was, as always, terrifying. The fear of losing her had become all too real almost before their relationship even truly began. He hadn’t had the luxury of a long period of blissful mutual infatuation without worry. Even so, the blacksmith was acutely aware of his blessings. Who would have thought that the bright, dynamic, compassionate woman who’d somehow fallen from the sky into his adopted hometown not two years ago would find her way into his arms?

 

“Frey…” He murmured, “I’m so very glad you’re alright. I was… really scared for a bit there.” She squeezed him. 

 

“Sorry for worrying you.” She said in a tiny voice as she held him. “I promise under normal circumstances I wouldn’t have let someone deck me like that. I’m actually pretty handy in a fight, with my magic, I mean.” 

 

“I believe you, little one.” He smiled, “I know you’re about as scrappy as they come. You infiltrated the floating empire, for cryin’ out loud. We’re all mortal, though. Anything can happen. I’m just grateful it worked out okay this time. With or without our bein’ l-lovers now,” He blushed as he stumbled over the word, “I’d do just about anything to protect ya, Frey. You’re too good for this world to lose before your time.” 

 

“I’m not going anywhere, Bado.” She insisted, squeezing him even more tightly. “We’ll have plenty of time together, if I have anything to say about it.” 

 

He tightened his embrace, breathing in her scent and feeling the warmth of her against him, concentrating on the real, solid presence of this peculiar little woman who wanted him against all odds. 

 

“Thank you, Frey,” He breathed, “I’m sure lookin’ forward to it.”

 

* * * * * 

 

Nancy strode back down the tall corridor toward the Great Dragon Hall where Ventuswill lay, exhausted. She needed to rejoin Jones and update him on what she’d learned. A mischievous, delighted little smirk curled the corners of their lips. It was always a pleasure to bear witness to someone else’s tumble into a romantic affair. It was called  _ falling _ in love, after all. She just adored the way it changed people: The tender look Bado bestowed on Frey, or the single-minded enchantment in her eyes as she looked at him were the stuff of poetry and plays. That a petit little princess had rendered the big, gruff ex-knight into practically a large smitten puppy was just so  _ delicious _ ! She muffled a giggle behind tightly closed lips as she thought about it. And him especially… if anyone could really use a love affair, it was Selphia’s indolent blacksmith. Oh sure, he was a lazy, half-useless failure of a conman, but he was also a kind and gentle soul: he could not take advantage of or be dishonest with others because he cared deeply that the people around him thrived and were happy. There was a natural goodness he had clearly been born with, forged in the very heart of him. Someone like that, especially who had accumulated so many scars, really deserved love about as much as anyone could. The nurse’s brow fretted as memories began to play inside her mind. 

 

A bitterly cold winter’s night many years ago returned to her. She could recall so clearly Tristan’s sheepish expression as he appeared at the door to the clinic, a tall shadow standing behind him in the dark of night. Nancy’s eyebrows had shot up as the Knight captain had ushered a battered, bandaged figure into the room. The first time the nurse had ever seen Bado the legendary knight, she’d felt as though she’d had the wind knocked out of her. Like a specter of misery he’d cast his hollow gaze about the room for a moment and then nodded mutely to her as Tristan explained who he was. The captain had asked her to provide fresh bandages and check on the younger man’s wounds. 

 

Privately he’d later explained that Bado’s habit of recklessness in battle had become more and more pronounced as his obvious depression worsened. Tristan feared it was the dwarven knight’s own desire for self-destruction that drove him further and further into harm’s way. To save his young friend’s life the knight captain called in all the favors he had owed to him to get Bado transferred to a mundane role in Selphia, rather than active duty on the front lines. 

 

The color had drained from her face as Nancy examined the silent, hollow-eyed knight and beheld the extent of his injuries. None were life threatening, but he’d obviously been on the receiving end of a blade almost more times than she could count in recent months. 

 

“What on earth have you been doing?” She had demanded in an strident, angry voice. The point-eared knight had startled at her tone, blinking at her, wide-eyed. The life that stirred somewhere deep within those metallic, blue-gray eyes had given her a glimpse of hope for the young man. “You need to take better care of yourself!” She scolded, eyes bright and sharp. 

 

“Sorry, ma’m.” He murmured, eyes dropping to the floor. One by one she’d cleaned, disinfected, and redressed all the places where steel had bitten into him. She forbade him from putting his armor back on. And, once she deduced he was running a fever she insisted he stay for observation at least overnight. Tristan stood by, beaming at the nurse. When at last the young man was settled in one of the clinic beds, his big feet hanging over the end of the thing, Nancy had taken the knight captain aside in the next room, whispering urgently at him with fire in her voice. 

 

“What on Earth have you been letting him do? He’s  _ covered _ in lacerations and I’m fairly sure he has several fractures, especially in his ribs.” She jabbed at the broad chest of the handsome knight, accusation in every inch of her posture. 

 

“I don’t know if you noticed, Nancy,” He said dryly, “but there’s this  _ war _ going on, and—”

 

“Then why aren’t  _ you _ the one bandaged?” She hissed. “How old is he, anyway?” 

 

“Um… twenty one, I think?” He offered, shifting uncomfortably. Nancy’s glare grew yet more venomous. 

 

“He’s  _ your _ soldier and he’s barely more than a kid!” She accused. 

 

“Well that’s going a little far, don’t you think? There are plenty of soldiers his age in the Knighthood.” 

 

“And how many of them are dwarves or elves?” She countered. “Do you  _ know _ what the age of adulthood is for the long-lived races?” Tristan squirmed, blushing. He raised his hands in a placating gesture. 

 

“Please, Nancy. Why do you think I brought him here, anyway? I’m trying to save the kid’s life.” The nurse gave a scrutinizing look to the captain, her eyes narrowed. 

 

“What is he to you?” 

 

“He’s my friend. I’ve only ever tried to look out for him, ya know?” Tristan sighed, his expression pained. “He may be a phenomenal fighter, but he wasn’t born to be a soldier, Nancy. There’s so little of him left in there… He used to have this—this  _ life _ about him… laughing and twisting words about and bickering with me. And you should see the things he can  _ make _ ! I know dwarven blacksmiths have a reputation for excellence but Nancy, I’ve never seen anything like it. I just want to save what’s left of the man, and maybe… maybe someday he’ll come back from where he’s gotten lost inside himself.” He sighed, a distant, troubled look in his cobalt blue eyes. Nancy’s hard expression softened. She sighed, then shook her head and smiled at Tristan.

 

“You’re taking on a world of trouble, as per usual.” She grumbled. The captain gave her a bent-brow look of confusion, “But I can’t say your habit of bringing home strays isn’t a little endearing.” 

 

“A stray, huh?” He huffed a tired laugh, “Yeah… that is an apt description of him, isn't it?” 

 

“Have you introduced him to Lily yet?” She asked quietly. A hopeful gleam took up residence in Tristan’s bright eyes. 

 

“I’ll bring her by in the morning, since you’ve decided to detain him.” He smirked at the nurse. 

 

“ _ Someone _ has to keep him out of harms way for a measly twenty four hours.” She grumbled. “But in all seriousness, Tristan… I’ll help as much as I can. I see what you’re describing about the boy. He’s all but faded away, isn’t he?” The captain nodded sadly. She put out a pale hand and gripped the man’s arm, smiling encouragingly. “You did the right thing, bringing him here to Selphia.” The Knight Captain put on a brave smile in reciprocation of her own. 

 

“I agree. I only hope it isn’t too late.” 

 

Nancy blinked as she returned to the present. She’d always been this way, so easily lost in her memories. People had called her a daydreamer, but really she had a marvelous talent, or at least that’s what Jones had told her. As always, a feeling of warmth and belonging glowed in her heart as she thought of her husband. Again she found herself fervently hoping that somewhere down the road the dwarven blacksmith was treading was a love as compassionate and supportive as that which she herself had been blessed with. Everyone deserved the boon Jones had given her.  _ That _ was the source of her ‘silly’ obsession with romance and love. She simply wanted what she’d been given for everyone she cared for, as well. 

 

As she passed into the audience chamber, Nancy gave a small ‘oh’ of surprise as she beheld Ventuswill’s sphinx-like posture. She was still weary and wilted looking, but at least she’d raised her head to speak to Jones. The nurse joined her husband and addressed the dragon god: 

 

“Lady Ventuswill! How do you fare? It is most reassuring to see you alert once again.” Nancy offered with a curtsey. 

 

“Ah, thank you Nurse Nancy,” The enormous dragon rumbled, the large glossy eyes focusing on her. “I am all but exhausted, to be perfectly frank. Healing Frey was much more straining than I anticipated.”

 

“Was it the severe nature of her injury that taxed you so, m’lady?” Jones asked, his tone interested, almost urgent. Ventuswill shook her great plumed head gently. 

 

“I’m sure that contributed, but no… I fear there is more to it than that.” She hesitated, staring at the doctor and his wife before sighing and settling down once more upon the dais. “But you needn’t worry. I am well enough for now.” 

 

“Pardon, your grace.” Jones intoned, voice firm, “But something is obviously wrong here. You are waning, just as you did prior to the installation of the Rune Spheres. Am I correct?” The Native Dragon raised her head and fixed Jones with a calculating stare. Jones stared back, unbending. Nancy stole a moment in time to admire his resolve, as always so in love with the man she’d chosen. 

 

“Furthermore,” Jones continued, “You are well aware of the issue, if not its cause. You express no surprise at this result, and you even hesitated briefly when we brought Frey before you.” Ventuswill gave an irritated flick of her long tail.  

 

“Very well! You’ve made your point, doctor.” She snipped, “Now stop speaking so  _ loudly _ !” Jones stopped short, waiting as he stared up at the enormous creature. The dragon heaved a great sigh, and brought her huge head down close to the doctor and his wife. 

 

“This is an issue of utmost privacy, for the time being. You _must_ _not_ tell a soul.” She warned. Jones nodded grimly. Nancy followed suit. “Good. Suffice it to say, an unknown force has been draining me of rune energy from afar recently.” Ventuswill rumbled as quietly as she could. “At first I thought my age was merely catching up to me, but I feel this… _pull_. I sense a presence, somehow familiar to me, though I know not what it could be. Until I know more, I require that you keep this a secret from everyone. The last thing we need is to incite a panic amongst the townspeople.” 

 

“Understood.” Jones said, nodding, “We will comply on the condition that you inform us as soon as you know more, and inform us as soon as possible if there is anything we can do to assist you.” The insistence in his voice would not be challenged. Ventuswill dipped her great, wedge-shaped head in agreement and settled herself down into her sprawling repose once more. 

 

“Good. Now, if you please, I could really use some rest.”

 

“Of course.” Nancy said, bowing. “But, if I may offer one unrelated concern…” 

 

“Yes… what is it?” The dragon sighed tiredly from the stone floor. 

 

“Are you aware of the relationship between Frey and Bado?” Nancy inquired, feeling Jones’ sudden stare on her as he heard her words. 

 

“I had an inkling, but I take it this is confirmation?” 

 

“Yes, m’lady. I’m afraid the incident that resulted in her injury has also triggered a regression in him. I saw the legendary knight return today, Lady Ventuswill. I fear what will follow if measures are not taken to protect Dylas and Bado himself from a loss of control on his part. Ventuswill’s reptilian brow furrowed as she thought on the matter. 

 

“Yes… Jones did describe some what transpired. I see the risks. I will assign Volkanon to stand watch and ensure there will be no visitation by Dylas while Bado is present here in the castle. In the morning I will speak with our resident blacksmith and address the issue directly. Thank you for your counsel, Nancy.” 

 

Nancy bowed graciously, expressing her thanks and bidding the God farewell with well wishes for her recovery. She could not say all her fears had been assuaged, but she did feel reassured knowing Ventuswill’s involvement and protection was in play. 

 

She’d have to speak with Bado again soon, obviously, but for now at least she could rest a little easier. Plus, in the meantime she could revel in the vicarious decadence of observing such a sweet romance unfolding. It was almost— _ almost _ as nice as her own story of falling in love with Jones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More delightful Nancy POV including a Bado backstory flashback! So much fun to write! Poor Bado... his temperament doesn’t align with his talents at all. It’s about time he should able to settle down with someone who loves him for who he is, eh? 
> 
> Stay tuned for some more Doug/Dylas next week! <3 I have really been enjoying writing that secondary ship to this story a LOT more than I expected to. 
> 
> Thanks, as always for reading! Be sure to let me know your thoughts in the comments below! What do you think about the glimpses of Bado’s backstory so far? What else do you think happened to him back then, or even before Tristan brought him to Selphia?


	20. The Nightmare

Doug panted raggedly as he labored to drag a half-limp, unresisting Dylas away from the clinic and down the road leading to the lake. He knew well enough the other man frequented the peaceful scenery and ambiance of the place; now he desperately hoped as he struggled to tug the half-monster along that the familiar setting would help calm Dylas. The man needed _something_ that would allow him to actually work his way through the jumble of feelings warring within him. Everthing had happened so fast… the breakup and argument with Frey, his reckless charge toward Bado, the horrible flash of awareness just before his fist connected with the princess’ skull. A sick feeling rose up in Doug’s gut. Frey had gone completely limp in an instant. Getting hit hard enough to lose all one’s faculties so immediately… what if the person who had saved him from all his confusion and mistakes since he’d come to Selphia bent on revenge… what if she… He tried urgently to shove the thought down, resisting an urge to stagger into the bushes and wretch. 

 

‘ _Don’t think about that… we don’t know anything yet. That’s not gonna happen.”_ He chastised himself. 

 

For his part, Dylas stumbled along, half leaning on the smaller man, half staring in blank, numb bewilderment at the ground before him as they made their way toward the lake. Worry all but consumed Doug as he glanced sideways at the half-monster again and again between eyeing the path before his feet, praying he didn’t trip and send them both sprawling in the dirt on top of everything else that had just happened. He was already scuffed and bruised from being knocked down _twice_ by one of the biggest men in the region. Bado had barely even noticed him even after he’d thrown himself in front of Dylas, hoping against hope that the legendary knight would not be willing to kill a bystander to get to Dylas. In the end, the combination of Bado’s own concern for Frey and Nancy’s unexpected ability to snap him out of his murderous state with a barked command had been what saved Dylas. In the end, Doug hadn’t done much but get knocked down like a chair somebody left in the way. 

 

‘Tch.” Doug gave a frustrated sound as an exasperated, bitter thought flickered through his mind between the effort of hauling Dylas along the path: 

 

“ _I can_ literally _lay down my life to save a guy and_ still _go unnoticed by every single person involved.”_

 

The young dwarf sighed, sweating as he struggled along. How did he get here, anyway? 

 

“ _Because you love him_ .” The simple answer popped into his mind and bent his face into a wince, the pain of his unrequited attachment always so fresh and raw. “ _Love is so stupid…”_ He thought, gritting his teeth and knowing there was nothing to be done. 

 

Finally they arrived at the lakeshore. The early frost in the grass leading up to the beach was explanation enough for the deserted state of the scenic environment. Doug’s breath puffed before his lips as he panted, visible in the cold air. The pair stumbled to a stop and Doug eased Dylas down onto his knees before collapsing onto his own hands and knees to catch his breath. He panted for a few beats, then straightened up, blood turning to ice as he looked once more at the once-guardian’s face. 

 

* * * * * 

 

Tension stretched Dylas features as his mind frantically spun in circles. His eyes stretched wide, pupils constricted. His teeth clenched, ears ringing as his jaws locked into a horrified rictus. 

 

“ _No—This wasn’t supposed to—why? Why was she suddenly there? No… no no no NO NO NO!!”_ His breath grew faster, frantic. 

 

“Hey. Hey, take it easy, Dylas.” Doug said breathlessly beside him, one hand clamping onto Dylas’ shoulder and shaking him slightly. 

 

“ _What have I done? WhathaveIdone? WHATHAVEIDONE?”_

 

He’d struck her. Accident or no, he’d _hit_ her with everything he had, aiming for the blacksmith with all his rage and frustration and fear channeled into a wild right hook. He’d struck down his fianc—no. She wasn’t. She’d never been his betrothed. And now she wasn’t his girlfriend anymore… hell, after this disaster she probably wasn’t his _anything_ anymore. 

 

“ _And after a blow like that… she might not even BE anymore…”_

 

An involuntary, guttural sound forced its way out of his throat, scattering against his clenched teeth and escaping as a muffled, half-unhinged sound. His lungs emptied completely with the sound and he sucked in a long, trembling breath to fill them once more. As soon as his ribs swelled with the air he’d taken in, a scream began to build, deep in his chest. His thoughts no longer formed as words. His fear and grief and self-loathing coalesced into a wordless tempest of emotion too intense, too extreme to be tempered. His jaws opened as the scream grew and grew, tearing its way out of him, louder and wilder and more terrible than any sound he’d ever heard before, let alone created with his own lungs. The absolutely unacceptable reality of what he’d done, what might happen because of him, waged war on his mind as he frantically thrashed and railed against it. He screamed again, his throat growing ragged, his jaws aching. Again. Pain and pressure behind his eyes. Again. His head began to swim. _Again_ . His voice began to fail, shredded and thin with the din of his suffering. _Again._ Exhausted, feeble, faint… his vision became a tunnel, darkness growing at the edges. Vaguely he realized something was restricting his movement, binding around his chest and arms tightly… The feeling was so familiar… not rope or manacles or cloth or chain… it was the warmth and desperate strength of a _person_ holding tightly to him. He drew in another breath, twitching and teetering as consciousness fled from him. Through all the muddled chaos of his emotion, all the pain and grief of his conscience, and all the fatigue and exertion of his body, Dylas saw a mop of read hair, with pointed ears protruding sideways. 

 

The tunnel closed and the once-guardian, who had long ago laid down never expecting to again wake, melted into the blackness as he lost consciousness. 

 

* * * * * 

 

Ice cold water shocked Dylas’ senses into waking. Instantly his head was pounding with pain. He flinched, a trembling hand rising to his face and pawing incoherently at the cold, and now wet, skin of his cheeks. He grunted, and found himself vaguely surprised by the voiceless rasp that came out. Gingerly his eyes blinked open and squinted nearly closed again against the pale overcast sky above. A searing red disrupted the sky above him as a halo around something dark. He blinked rapidly and Doug’s face came into focus. 

 

“No…” He croaked. “Please tell me this isn’t real. It was just a… a nightmare…” Doug’s pained expression dashed his feeble hopes of escape. He closed his eyes, throat clenching. 

 

“Dylas!” Doug barked, an adamant quality to his voice he’d never heard before. He opened his eyes and looked at the dwarf. “Stay awake.” He ordered. Belatedly Dylas realized the sensation that had brought him back to consciousness had been lake water Doug scooped from the water’s edge in his cupped palms and deposited on his face. He turned his head and looked about. Doug had obviously dragged him closer to the where the waves lapped at the sand of the beach. 

 

“I don’t want to be awake. I don’t want to _be_ at all…” Dylas mumbled dejectedly. “I fucked everything up this time. _Everything_ ….” 

 

“Can it, you mopey old mule.” Doug said flatly. The sudden insult startled Dylas into looking the redhead in the eyes. 

 

“The hell did you say to me, half-pint shrimp?” He growled reflexively. Doug’s face lit up hopefully before he mastered his expression and put on a stern look. Dylas’ eyebrows climbed upward on his brow. Confusion momentarily rescued him from his grief. 

 

“I double-crossed this _entire_ town, conspired to _murder_ their _God_ , and declared myself enemy to princess Frey, who was trying to save and protect everyone singlehandedly.” He said seriously. Then he cracked a smile. “All you did was accidentally bop her one.” 

 

Dylas sat up and jabbed a finger in Doug’s direction. 

 

“That’s not—” He began to protest. Doug swatted down his outstretched hand and poked him hard in the chest to punctuate his rebuttal: 

 

“If they could forgive _me_ and welcome me into their community, they can forgive _you,_ too. You sacrificed yourself to save everyone in your time, remember? I ain’t ever done something half as good as that.” His bright, silvery eyes blazed as he stared into Dylas’ amber ones. The passion in those reflective eyes stirred something deep inside the half-monster, beneath all the storm of his jumbled emotions following the day’s incident, beneath his anxiety and self loathing, beneath even the gray haze of melancholy that had always been with him for as long as he could remember… The energy and eagerness and _life_ in Doug’s eyes reached into him, into the very _center_ of him and tugged on something distantly familiar. 

 

Dylas blinked slowly at Doug, brow furrowing, words vanished from his lips. Why was the young dwarf looking at him like that? What did he care if Dylas had just _ruined_ his already dubious existence? 

 

_“He does care, though…”_ A thought formed in the half-monster’s head as he recalled the past few days’ events. Doug had suddenly been present at every turn, carefully nudging and supporting Dylas, making himself available to him. He had nothing to gain by diving into the awful whirlwind that had been the past week alongside him. He’d tried to spare Dylas as much of the pain of Frey’s rejection as possible. Hell, he’d even tried to protect him from Bado’s anger, Dylas realized as he thought back to the clinic and the smithy. 

 

They’d always butted heads, bickered, argued, snipped, snarled, and postured at one another, but Dylas had never stopped to really consider what any of it meant. What was Doug to him, anyway? A rival? A friend? Their combative dynamic wasn’t that of enemies, no matter how much they fought. Often one of them had gone as far as to seek the other one out just to pick a fight. They’d barked insults and railed against one another and competed with one another fiercely in every festival, but when Dylas really thought about it, there was something there… something that drew him back to this obstinate little runt, again and again. 

 

Doug had been the first one to extend an olive branch, however. His concern for his odd acquaintance had prompted him to intervene on Dylas’ behalf. He’d jumped right into a veritable hornet’s nest just to help him, knowing there was absolutely no benefit to himself in doing so. Dylas tilted his head as he stared at the other man. 

 

“Are you crazy or something?” He said, voice somewhat distant and mystified. “Why are you going so far with this?” 

 

Doug blinked rapidly, his ears turning red, then his face turned furious. 

 

“That’s _all_ you have’ta say t’me?!” He spluttered. 

 

“No, I mean—” Dylas held up his hands. “Rgh! S-sorry… I really am dumb with words. I mean… I… just…” He looked bewildered at the red headed dwarf for a few heartbeats, then sighed. “I guess I’m just surprised. You really stuck your neck out for me. I… didn’t expect that.” Doug looked away, face blushing to a vivid red matching his hair. 

 

“Yeah, well…” He huffed, “I just didn’t want to see ya get smashed into mincemeat by Bado, that’s all.” 

 

“You probably should have just let him hit me.” Dylas sighed, “I deserve it.” Doug echoed the sigh. 

 

“This whole thing sucks. Ain’t no mistake about that, but… I don’t think you deserve to be squashed for it.” Doug ventured, timidly returning his gaze to Dylas’ eyes. 

 

“I’m not so sure.” Dylas sighed. “I’m… I’m really worried about Frey.” 

 

“Me too… but she’s in Jones’ hands now. I’m sure she’ll be okay.” Doug offered. Dylas looked off in the direction of the clinic, chewing his lip fretfully. 

 

“I know she’ll probably hate me now… _everyone_ will. But… I just want to know she’s okay… I love her, Doug.” 

 

“Even though she…” Doug began. Dylas looked tiredly at him, waiting for the dwarf to confirm what he already knew in his heart. Doug swallowed, visibly steeling himself before he spoke: “She cheated on you, Dylas. I saw them kiss the other day…” Dylas braced himself to feel a stab of betrayal, anger, sorrow, something… no tempest of emotion came this time, no words of wrath or vengeance sprang to his lips. He only looked up into the cold gray sky above and sighed again. 

 

“Yeah… even so. All I wanted was to make this work, somehow. I don’t know why I don’t hate her for what she did. Maybe it’s because everything’s been my fault since the beginning. If I hadn’t been such an ass to her… I don’t think she’d have gone looking elsewhere…” He blinked thoughtfully, his heart sinking slowly as he grasped the reality that he and Frey would never again kiss or hold one another or look at each other with the tender affection of young lovers. 

 

“It’s not your fault she cheated on you.” Doug said slowly. Dylas continued to stare tiredly up at the clouds. 

 

“How do you figure that?” He mumbled. 

 

“Cause… that was _her_ decision. No matter what kind of fight you guys were having, you were in a relationship with one another. If she wanted out so badly, she should have ended it first, and then gone off with Bado if that’s what she wanted.” Doug’s brow was stern as he said those things. Dylas eyed him, pondering his words. They didn’t quite make sense, but he did see that the other man was determined _not_ to paint him a villain, despite the fact he’d just rammed his fist into Frey’s poor head. He winced. 

 

“Kissing the blacksmith ain’t nothing compared to hitting her like I did…” Dylas sighed, drooping as he looked down at his hands. “I just want her to be okay. I just want to take it all back. I know she doesn’t want me and—” He swallowed, eyes burning, “And that’s okay, as long as _she’s_ okay. I never… I _never_ wanted to hurt her…”  

 

“It was an _accident_.” Doug offered, voice small. 

 

“Doesn’t change the result… I hate this… I just want to disappear…” Dylas replied, no ire in his voice, only sorrow. A long silence followed in which Doug said nothing and Dylas only stared down at his hands in his lap. 

 

“Do you think I should have disappeared?” Doug asked quietly. Dylas’ eyes snapped up to meet the dwarf’s eyes again.

 

“What? No, I wasn’t trying to say—” Dylas made a frustrated sound. Why was it no matter what he did or said, he _always_ ended up hurting someone? “I wasn’t talking about you, dummy.” He said sheepishly, hoping calling Doug names would cheer the strange young man up, as it had before. Doug’s jaw tightened. 

 

“I know you weren’t, but… what right do I have to go on living in Selphia if you don’t?” 

 

Dylas stared at Doug, completely at a loss. 

 

“I’m not really sure what to say, except… I don’t like to hear you say that stuff.” He said, finally, feeling helpless. Doug flicked an irritated glance his way. 

 

“And what, you think I like to hear _you_ talk that way? Like you’re nothing?” Dylas leaned back at that, bending an eyebrow at Doug. 

 

“I don’t understand what’s happening here. Why are you mad at me?” Dylas asked, his bestial ears flattening against his head. 

 

“Because you’re frustrating.” Doug sighed as he pushed himself up onto his feet. He looked down at Dylas and extended a hand. Dylas glanced at it, just as confused as ever, but he didn’t want to fight with the person who’d tried to stand between him and probable death. He gripped Doug’s hand and let the smaller man pull him to his feet. He stood there for an odd moment, totally unsure of himself. 

 

“C’mon.” Doug said, resignation in his voice. “You can’t go near her for as long as Bado is with her, but I think I know a way we can find out what’s happening.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, here we go. We’re knee-deep in Dylas/Doug territory now! 
> 
> I once heard anger described as a thing that absolutely inhibits the parts of your brain that allow you to think rationally, let alone act with sensitivity and compassion. Looking at it this way, it becomes easier to empathize with a character who struggles with anger. Of course, one’s actions are still real and require accountability, but this perspective hi-lights the way anger changes one’s actual state of being, similar to anxiety and depression. A person in a state of rage is not capable of certain processes we associate with desirable behavior. They have to change states to feel the rest of the spectrum of their thoughts and emotions. 
> 
> In this regard, Dylas and even Bado become more complex and challenging characters. I’m feeling very stimulated creatively while trying to solve just how to write then in a way that keeps them sympathetic while still exploring these less palatable themes and feelings. 
> 
> I hope you’re enjoying the exploration of Dylas’ character in this fic. Let me know what you think of him and Doug in the comments. Next chapter will have some more good good D/D dialogue and also some very cute B/F content as well. <3


	21. The Awakening

Doug poked his red-haired head around the corner down the street from the clinic. He saw no sign of anyone, so he rolled his wrist, ushering Dylas forward alongside him. It felt odd, sneaking up on the ‘Little Bandage’ clinic like this, but if he wanted to be sure Dylas wasn’t about to get decked by the huge dwarven blacksmith who might be inside, he  _ had _ to be cautious. They crept up to the western side of the building and crouched there, leaning on the wall. Doug pressed a pointed ear to the wall but heard nothing. 

 

“It’s quiet…” Doug murmured. “Can’t catch any sign of them.” He glanced sideways at Dylas, seeing the other man’s jaw tighten as a pained expression cast itself over his eyes. Doug scowled and tapped chidingly on Dylas’ arm. “Hey. No moping. I’ve got a plan.” Dylas eyed him,  _ almost _ glaring at the admonishment. Doug turned away from him and glanced about to make sure there were no bystanders to witness this. 

 

“Well…” He began, speaking a little more loudly than was necessary for Dylas to hear him, “I guess all that’s left to do now is see if we can climb up to the second floor window and see if we can sneak a peek at Dolce while she’s changing…” Dylas turned sharply toward him, leveling a confused and angry expression at the dwarf. 

 

Almost instantly, a furious purple  _ something _ burst out of thin air and tackled Doug into the pavement. 

 

“OOF” The dwarf grunted.

 

“YOU STAY AWAY FROM MY DOLLY, PERVERT!!” A miniature woman in the garb of a witch shrieked as she swatted furiously at Doug’s face.

 

“OW! Hey, I— PICO! STOP! I was just tryin’ to get your attention! Ow!” Doug spluttered as he tried to defend himself from the tiny apparition’s onslaught. 

 

“A likely story!” She jeered, grabbing and pulling on a tuft of his red locks. 

 

“We need your help, Pico.” Doug grated, ignoring her accusations. The ghostly girl stopped short and looked up at Dylas for the first time. 

 

“We?” She asked warily. 

 

“Yeah.” Doug confirmed. “Earlier Frey was brought in with a head injury. We want to know how she’s doing but—” 

 

“But you don’t want  _ this _ one sent to the afterlife early?” Pico offered with a wicked grin, hooking a thumb in Dylas’ direction.”

 

“Yeah. Exactly.”

 

“A good call.” Pico nodded approvingly, an eerie, malevolent glow to her green eyes. “I sensed the other spirits in the area get agitated. Bado really would have killed you if things had gone just a little differently.” She said in a cutting voice, eyeing Dylas. 

 

“Right. Which is why—”

 

“You should stay away from that guy if you don’t want to end up like  _ me _ !” The little ghost jeered, floating into the air and toward Dylas. He flinched backward, saying nothing. Doug sighed in irritation. Her juvenile antics were always an obstacle… 

 

“Pico…” He called, voice irritated, “Can you just tell us what happened after we left? Is Frey alright?” Pico spun about in midair and looked coolly at the dwarf. 

 

“Dunno. She was unconscious. Jones said they had to take her to Ven and see if she could help.” She said, gaze growing colder as she looked back at Dylas. “Why’d you hit her, anyway? She could die from something like that, ya know.” Dylas looked down, expression crumpling into an agonized grimace.

 

“ _ Pico _ ,” Doug barked, voice demanding, “It was an accident. He’s really,  _ really  _ worried about her but we can’t go check on her because of Bado. Can you  _ please _ just go see what’s happening and let us know?” He implored. 

 

“Hmmm…” Pico mused, looking skeptically into his silver eyes with her acid-green ones. “But how do I know this is just a ploy to get me to leave so you can peep on Dolly in her lovely, lacy underwear?” 

 

Doug sighed loudly. 

 

“What if I swear we won’t?” 

 

“What would be the point? How could I trust the word of a  _ filthy _ voyeur?” The poltergeist returned. Doug clenched his teeth, seeing only one expedient solution. 

 

“I’m not after Dolce.” He growled. “I don’t even look at her in that way, so you don’t have to worry about that. Not ever.”

 

“But how do I know that for sur—”

 

“I’m  _ gay _ , okay?!” Doug snapped. “I got no business like that with girls!” Pico and Dylas both blinked, wide-eyed at his outburst. The young dwarf blushed furiously, but stood his ground before the ghost and his crush. “Now will you  _ please _ just give me a frickin’ break and go check on her?” 

 

Pico glanced between the dwarf and the half-monster, a sly smile growing on her ghostly visage. 

 

“As you wish.” She said with a flourish as she vanished into thin air. 

 

Suddenly alone again with the man he wanted most, Doug glared sternly down at the ground, face still fiery with the blush that had accompanied his admission. He wasn’t strictly secretive about his sexuality, but he also didn’t usually go around broadcasting it, either. They sat in the awkward silence he had created for several minutes before Dylas spoke, his voice cautious. nevertheless, Doug heard a smirk in it as the half-monster spoke: 

 

“So… I guess the person you were talking about in the bath the other day is a man, then.” 

 

Doug sighed irritably. 

 

“Yep.” He said stiffly, embarrassment roiling around inside him. 

 

“I’m sorry.” Dylas said. Doug’s brow furrowed in confusion and he looked up at the other man. 

 

“Sorry?” He echoed, tone challenging. 

 

“Yeah. I kept saying ‘she’ the other day when we were talking about it. I just assumed you were straight. I should’a asked better questions before tryin’ to give you advice.” Dylas said, an apologetic, embarrassed curve to his brow. Doug blinked at him. 

 

“Don’t worry about it.” He said, looking away again. “It’s no big deal.” 

 

“Are… you gonna tell me who it is?” Dylas asked, a visible grin tugging on the corner of his mouth. Bastard. At least this humiliating situation was distracting his stupid ass from his troubles, Doug thought ruefully. 

 

“No.” He huffed, glaring briefly at Dylas before looking sharply away again. 

 

“Alright, alright.” Dylas acquiesced. Hands up in a placating gesture. They sat in awkward silence for a time, both fidgeting nervously as they waited. Eventually, Dylas sighed fretfully, looking up at the cloudy sky once more. 

 

“It’s gonna be alright.” Doug said, low, “If anyone can help her it’s Ventuswill, anyhow. She’ll be oaky. You’ll see.” The little dwarf fervently hoped he was right. He had his own fears and trepidation about the situation, but most of all he needed to reassure this obstinate man he loved so much. Dylas looked up at him, a lost, bewildered sort of expression hovering upon his features. 

 

“Doug?” He called finally, sounding almost timid. Doug looked into his amber eyes, heart pounding faster as he did. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do all this to help me. I… I may have been all wrapped up in my own drama lately, but I  _ do  _ see what you've done for me. And… and I’m grateful to you.” 

 

“Well, yeah.” Doug said with another crimson blush. “I could see the mess you were in. I just want you to come out of it okay. Of course I’m gonna do what I can to help.” 

 

“‘Of course’, you say, but most people wouldn’t go half as far as you have for me.” Dylas returned. “Why is that, I wonder? Used to be all we ever did was fight.” Doug’s heart hammered rapidly in his chest. If ever there was an invitation to admit his feelings, this was it, but… how could he ever believe Dylas was ready to hear them  _ now,  _ as they sat and waited to find out just how badly he had injured the woman he was  _ still _ in love with. No… no matter what was coming out of that bonehead’s mouth right now, he wasn’t ready…

 

“I just… feel like we’re kinda the same, ya know?” Doug muttered, opting for a lesser truth to offer his beloved in this oddly intimate moment. “I’ve always been a screw up, but you still talked to me all the time, even if it was just to bicker and fight. That’s a hell of a lot better than bein’ ignored, I figure.” 

 

“And that’s a hell of a basis for a friendship…” Dylas said dryly, a wry chuckle hiding behind his words, “But… I’m glad. It means a lot that you care, even though I’ve never been anything but an ass to you.” 

 

“ _ A damn fine ass, at that…”  _ a mischievous part of Doug’s inner voice said slyly. He blushed, trying in vain to keep his attraction to the other man in check. His ears warmed and twitched in unison. 

 

“I’m BAAAACK!” Pico suddenly shouted in their midst, startling both men into jumping in place. “You two ain’t been suckin’ face back here, have ya?” The little ghost jeered wickedly. 

 

“Shut it.” Doug growled, “Did you find anything out?” 

 

“But how can I tell you if I’m supposed to ‘shut it’?” She whined, her voice slick with mischief. 

 

“Pico, please. Is she alright?” Dylas suddenly interjected, his voice shaking with concern again. Pico turned on the spot and leveled a surprised look at Dylas. She stared silently at him for a long moment before she tilted her head and spoke, almost consolingly: 

 

“She is well. Ven healed her head and she is resting now. But, you should forget about her. She only has eyes for  _ him _ .”

 

Dylas’ shoulders drooped and he sighed out an exhausted breath. 

 

“I’m so… so relieved…” he whispered, “If I had… if she—” He choked on the thought before he could finish putting it to words. Doug gripped his shoulder, trying wordlessly to reassure the man. 

 

“Didn’t you  _ hear _ me?” Pico replied, “I said she loves  _ him _ now! You’re never gonna get close to her again! He won’t leave her side!” 

 

“Pico!” Doug snapped, glaring at the ghost. “Knock it off! Can’t you see he’s down enough about all this?” 

 

“It’s alright.” Dylas said, sighing again, “I have no claim to her affection anymore. It’s… it’s good she has someone beside her right now.” 

 

“Whaaat? You’re just gonna  _ give up _ without a fight?” Pico accused. “What happened to all that rage from earlier, huh?” Doug glared daggers at the poltergeist, wondering if he’d made a huge mistake in asking for her help after all. Dylas only drooped further. 

 

“Fighting has  _ never _ done me any good where she was concerned, obviously.” He said sorrowfully, “If she is willing to throw herself in front of Bado to protect him… well, I guess he’s earned her love, somehow…” 

 

“Wow… you are  _ really _ boring.” Pico sighed, then spun in place and vanished just as Doug attempted to grab hold of her, his temper getting the better of him as he heard her jibe. 

 

“Sheesh. Sorry about that.” Doug grumbled, “If I’d have known she was gonna be such a little shit about it I wouldn’t have—” 

 

“Don’t worry about it.” Dylas said tiredly. “I think… I think I’m gonna go home and rest. Now that I know she’s safe… well, I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so tired in my life… I could sleep for  _ another _ millennia, I think…” 

 

“Please don’t.” Doug returned, smiling at him, “I don’t wanna die before I see you again.” 

 

Dylas huffed an exhausted ghost of a laugh, eyeing Doug with affection rather than ire, as he used to. 

 

“Yeah, alright. I do owe ya now, after all…” 

 

* * * * * 

 

Volkanon, half-dwarf, master butler, and attendant to Ventuswill the Divine Wind, blinked with furrowed brow at the scene that greeted his eyes as he stepped into Princess Frey’s bedchamber. His concern upon hearing that Ventuswill had allowed Bado to escort Frey to bed and  _ stay _ in her rooms had not quite prepared him for this…

 

The huge dwarven blacksmith lay sprawled upon the rug next to Frey’s double bed, his boots, gloves, belt, and vest lying in a heap nearby, a feather pillow beneath his head and a blanket from one of the guest rooms haphazardly draped over his large proportions. His left arm lay propped up at the elbow, his forearm trailing up the side of the bed frame, the large angular hand of the man clutched tightly by the slender hands of the princess. For her part, Frey was curled at the very edge of her mattress, perched precariously but not  _ quite _ toppling onto the dwarf lying there beside her. Her silky green hair hung down over the side of the bed, almost reaching the floor. Bado snored as his broad chest rose and fell, everything about the pair of them describing pure exhaustion. 

 

The big butler sighed fretfully, a mixture of reactions vying for dominance inside him. One part of him felt his eyes burn, moved by the tender affection between the blacksmith and the young princess. The other seethed with agitation at this breach of etiquette and social boundaries. If he really  _ had _ to stay, he should have been in one of the guest rooms,  _ not _ in Frey’s own room beside her very bed! What was the man thinking, anyway? Certainly he was old enough to know better, no matter her protests—and Volkanon was certain by the way she clutched Bado’s large hand that Frey had probably insisted he stay with her. Was it not Bado’s responsibility in this case to maintain decorum? Then again, the butler thought with a half-disgusted expression,  _ that _ man had never been one for adhering to decorum in general.

 

The butler stepped forward into the room and quietly closed the door behind him. He set out the tea tray he’d brought upon the bedside table, stepped back and quietly cleared his throat. Neither of the sleepers so much as stirred. He tried again, a little louder this time. The rhythm of Bado’s snoring faltered and his head turned from one side to the other upon the pillow. Frey shifted in place with a grumble and pulled Bado’s hand tighter against her chest, earning a disapproving glare she could not see from Volkanon. The older gentleman sighed, allowing his frustration to show in front of his unconscious audience. He drew in a breath and projected his voice: 

 

“Good morning, princess Frey!” He boomed. 

 

Bado snorted. Frey squawked and promptly tumbled off the bed, landing on her overnight guest in an awkward heap of skinny limbs and long hair. 

 

“OOF!” Bado fumbled groggily until his hands found her slender body and the pair blinked eyes open, their faces almost touching as they regained their senses. 

 

“Do excuse me.” Volkanon said stiffly, privately furious at himself for enabling this latest transgression on his sense of propriety where Frey was concerned. 

 

“The… hell?” Bado rasped, blinking up at the unfamiliar ceiling. 

 

“Oh!” Frey piped. She sat bolt upright, which placed her right atop the much larger figure beneath her, hands propped upon his chest, her nightgown barely covering her pale thighs straddling him. Bado’s hands had followed her movement, still gripping gently just above her hips. A snapshot of the scene would have suggested he’d caught them in the very _act_ itself! Volkanon’s jaw tightened even as Bado’s face turned crimson. 

 

“Uh…” He began tentatively as his looked from Frey to Volkanon. “This ain’t what it looks like…” Despite his words and the fact Volkanon had seen what had happened, Bado’s reddened ears betrayed his true feelings. Being the child of one dwarven parent, Volkanon knew well what it meant as Bado’s left ear twitched. He levied a dark look at the other man and cleared his throat as threateningly as he knew how to. Bado sat up, helping Frey shift off of him. At least the man had the decency to look ashamed… 

 

“Sorry Mr. Volkanon, but you should know until a moment ago we were both asleep, honest. It really was an accident. I just fell on him. 

 

“I know, princess. I was the one who startled you both awake.” The old butler explained stiffly, “I did not mean to cause you embarrassment. I apologize.” He bowed formally. 

 

“That’s alright, Mr. Volkanon.” Frey said, still shrill and breathless from being startled and then embarrassed. 

 

“I should… I should probably go, don’t ya think?” Bado offered, his own face and ears still flushed red. Frey’s attention immediately locked on the man as she knelt beside him on the rug. Her every expression and movement described her single-minded attachment to the blacksmith. Clearly she did not like the idea of his departure from his company. 

 

“Won’t you stay for breakfast, first?” She asked in a slightly breathy voice. Bado met her gaze and furrowed his brow, clearly at war with his own sense of propriety. Good to know he had one, at least, thought Volkanon. He could not say exactly why but he felt compelled to remove the man before him from the smitten princess’ sight. Oh, it wasn’t that he doubted their attachment to one another.  _ That _ was more than obvious. It wasn’t even that he felt dubious of Bado’s intentions. He clearly cared for her, after all. It was just all so… improper. This was not the order of things. A suitor should not begin by sleeping on the floor beside his intended partner’s bedside. 

 

Bado glanced up dubiously at Volkanon, who’s eyes snapped between the blacksmith’s and the princess’ hopeful gaze. He sighed, relenting. Under the circumstances—her recent injury at all—he supposed a little leniency was in order. 

 

“ _ Just don’t make me regret this.”  _ He thought sternly at Bado as he looked down at them both. Then he allowed his expression to soften as he offered his olive branch: 

 

“I would be happy to prepare the two of you whatever you like for your morning repast after yesterday’s ordeal, miss Frey. Truly I am pleased to hear you have an appetite this morning.” Bado blinked and Frey brightened. 

 

“Thank you, Mr. Volkanon!” She chimed, rising to her bare feet and tugging on Bado’s hand to coax him into standing as well. 

 

“Thanks.” Bado said, nodding abashedly to the butler as he bowed formally to the pair of them, turning to exit toward the castle kitchens and make good on his offer. 

 

“ _ You had better be the man I think you are, Dramhau…” _ The old butler thought, jaw tightening as memories flickered in the back of his mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep! In this story’s canon, Doug is gay and Dylas is Bi. I know Doug is like, super into Frey in the game canon, so it makes a little more sense to write him as bi, but there’s a few things in this story and my headcanons regarding dwarves that makes it just a wee bit more fitting. It also is neat given the absence of gay characters in the game to use Dylas’ bi identity to create a sense of acceptance for Doug who hadn’t received that in Selphia as of yet. 
> 
> I hope that makes sense. It was also just really fun to write a close-to hopeless Doug finding out Dylas also likes men and just being over the moon but trying to somewhat contain his reaction. 
> 
> Meanwhile, I’m hella not above using the ‘whoops I fell on top of you’ trope yet again! (Bwahaha) 
> 
> ALSO did you enjoy sudden Volkanon POV?? My gods he’s just so fun to write. What a great character. Thank you Marvelous and Neverland for giving us this man.


	22. The Fretful

As Volkanon’s stiff back disappeared through the doorway, Bado let some of the tension out of his own backbone. His burning ears would never have gone unnoticed by the butler. Bado was certain Volkanon was at least a half-blooded dwarf. He sighed, thankful in secret that waking up to Frey sprawling and then  _ straddling _ atop him had only produced half an erection. He felt a blush grow across his face as he thought of it. Would this entire morning be equally embarrassing? He sighed. 

 

“Hey,” Frey’s voice intruded on his thoughts. He turned to her and his brow tilted upward. There she was in her nightdress, a thin, blue shift that perfectly accentuated her every curve. The big blacksmith swallowed, acutely aware of the arousal threatening to overtake his sense of propriety. Frey tilted her head. 

 

“I… I would like for you to stay.” She breathed, sounding nervous, “But you can go if you want to. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you just now.” 

 

Bado’s teeth clenched behind closed lips, his inner voice all but screaming in protest to her contrition. What should he say? He’d been trying— _ oh _ he’d been  _ trying _ —to be responsible about all this: pushing down his desire for her at every turn to try and keep her at bay until at last they found a more acceptable time for them to share their mutual attraction freely with one another. He had been the one to insist on waiting at every turn, so she probably thought he was embarrassed by  _ her _ eagerness. After all, he’d previously let his habits while traveling slip out, so she darn well  _ knew _ he wasn’t shy about going to bed with a woman. But now how could he assuage her own anxieties, assure her he  _ did _ want her, but still keep her from pouncing on him on purpose next time? The big dwarven man swallowed, painfully aware that his resolve probably wouldn’t withstand it the next time she touched his ears… 

 

“It’s not that I wanna go…” He hurried to say before his imagination lingered too long on remembering that feeling, “It just… feels like I been caught doin’ somethin’ I shouldn’t. I’m pretty sure old Volkanon didn’t like finding me in your room this morning.” He said, voice wary. Frey giggled, the sound sending a thrill through him.

 

“Just imagine if you’d slept  _ in _ the bed like I wanted you too!” She replied with a wicked grin. 

 

“While we’re on the topic,” He returned with a wry quirk to his expression, “You wouldn’t be  _ trying _ to get me in trouble, would you?” 

 

“If by ‘trouble’ you mean…” She trailed off as she wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed herself against him, one hand trailing down toward his tailbone, sending an electric  _ zing _ of sensation through him. He stiffened a little more beneath his undergarments, surely obvious to her now pressed against his front. She leveled a  _ truly _ wicked gaze up at him with her emerald eyes sparkling mischievously. 

 

“Little demon…” He grumbled in a husky voice, not quite able to resist joining in her game, having seen just how assertive she could be in this area. She laughed breathily once more, then withdrew from him. 

 

“Sorry. It’s a little hard to resist playing with you. I’m not  _ actually _ trying to get you pummeled by my butler. I just… well,  _ patience _ has never been my strongest virtue…” She purred, looking back over her shoulder as she strode to her armoire and selected a dress to wear for the day. 

 

“Well, if you’re  _ this _ feisty so early in the morning, I guess your head must be feeling alright, eh?” The blacksmith replied, shifting the topic away from dangerous waters. Frey paused, looking up thoughtfully. 

 

“I wouldn’t say I’m one hundred percent quite yet, but I certainly don’t feel as poorly as I’d expect following a head injury.” 

 

“That’s good to hear.” He replied, watching her back with earnest relief as she paced on graceful toes toward her changing screen. A hungry demon of his own grumbled inside him as she disappeared behind it. This woman! Never would he have guessed that the apparently naive little amnesiac would be so devilishly accomplished at seducing him. The sounds of rustling fabric tormented him as his imagination automatically visualized what he couldn’t see behind the screen. 

 

“What would you like for breakfast, anyway?” She called, her slender arms tossing her nightdress to hang over the top of the screen. 

 

“ _ You, until your moaning actually snaps my sanity…”  _ His inner voice whined. He almost moaned aloud, himself, as he imagined lowering his head between her thighs… 

 

“Uh…” He began stupidly, “W-Whatever you wanna have is f-fine.” 

 

She stepped out from behind the screen, the top of her dress hanging precariously close to annihilating modesty with each movement. She paced up to him, grinning slyly at his wide-eyed stare, spun around in place, and presented her back to him. 

 

“Would you please zip me up like a good gentleman?” She purred, holding her hair out of the way and displaying nearly the entire length of her back, including the strap of her bra and the lacy band of her underwear. Bado swallowed. 

 

_ “Damn you, woman…” _ He thought ruefully as his sexual hunger overpowered the regular sort. Wordlessly he grasped the zipper in deft fingertips—really, couldn’t she have  _ at least _ pulled it up to her waist so he didn’t have to see the little dimples at the base of her spine?—and tugged it upward until the woman he most wanted to undress was properly garbed once more. 

 

“You are a real handful.” He sighed, the desire not quite gone from his voice. She smirked at him over her shoulder, making his heart flutter all over again. 

 

“Shall we?” She offered in her sweetest voice, gesturing toward the hallway leading away from her bedchamber and toward safer settings for their interactions for now. 

 

“Yeah, we’d better.” He replied, gathering up the pieces of his clothing he’d discarded the night before to make his stay on the rug more comfortable. He threw on his fur-lined jacket, buckled on his vest and belt, and tugged on his boots over his big feet. By the time he straightened up and looked at Frey once again, she was watching him thoughtfully. 

 

“Uh… somethin’ on my face?” He said, quirking an eyebrow at her. She shook her head, giving him a genuine smile and offering an outstretched hand. He glanced down at it, smiled and took her warm fingers into his slightly roughened ones, drawing it up and bending his neck to kiss them with a gallant air. 

 

“My my, I guess you remember some skills for off the battlefield as well, sir knight? I wouldn’t have guessed you so familiar with the etiquette of royals.” She finished with a flourish, the mischievous glint in her eyes betraying her even before the corners of her mouth began to curl. A lopsided grin took over his features. 

 

“I know how to fake it, at least.” He returned with a wink. “The real question is where  _ you _ learned it. Did you fall from the sky on your way to a fancy ball or something?” She shrugged, letting her laugh out. Gods, her joyful face and laughter sent shockwaves through him. Would he always be so undone by her, even if by some miracle she were still his a year from now? Selphia’s lazy blacksmith whispered a tiny prayer to Ventuswill and all the Native Dragon's that he’d be fortunate enough to find out as he offered the princess his elbow and she took it as gracefully as a lady of her statue could beside a man of his. 

 

Together they walked through the towering hallways of the castle making pleasant banter about what they might ask Volkanon to provide them for breakfast. He suggested omelets, a favorite in his own mixed family largely due to Forte’s affinity for egg dishes of all kinds. She pondered aloud if Ventuswill would be awake and feeling well enough to put away a heap of pancakes. He jibed that of course she’d want something sweet. She giggled, squeezing his arm and sending a flood of warmth through him. 

 

They needn’t have dwelt on the choice so long, however, as a veritable banquet lay waiting on steaming platters as they reached the dining hall. They stared wide-eyed at the many delectable-looking dishes before them, utterly baffled at the appearance of a genuine feast, rather than a simple breakfast. 

 

Volkanon entered from the kitchens and deposited one more platter: a stack of fluffy pancakes. He straightened up and then seeing his mistress and her guest, he bowed gracefully. 

 

“Mr Volkanon! You didn’t have to make so much for us!” Frey chided, wonder coloring her voice. Bado couldn’t blame her, as he was currently scratching his head as he regarded the table. How in gods’ names did the old butler produce so much fine food in so short a time?

 

“Please consider it my apology for startling you both, earlier.” The butler replied. It might have been a playful remark, except the old man  _ wasn’t _ smiling. Bado fidgeted, still very aware that he was the proverbial fox in the henhouse in the eyes of this stately master servant. 

 

“You have nothing to be apologizing for, but thank you just the same. This is an amazing spread!” Frey chimed, beaming at the butler. Finally the old man did crack a gentle smile as he looked down at her. 

 

“I was perhaps also motivated by how grateful I am at your swift recovery, miss Frey.” He said warmly. “We are  _ all _ grateful for your wellbeing and Ventuswill’s aid in restoring you, of course.” Frey nodded seriously. 

 

“How is Venti doing this morning? Is she awake yet?” 

 

“Alas, no, she is snoring away still in her audience chamber.” Volkanon replied with an affectionate feigning of exasperation. 

 

“Please let me know when she has risen. I need to thank her, formally.”

 

“Of course. For now, shall we all sit down to eat?” The old man offered.

 

“Yes, lets!” Frey chirped happily. 

 

“Very good.” Volkanon replied, beaming. “I shall fetch Vishnal and Clorica. He has been attempting to rouse her from sleep earlier recently, but I fear the lad is no match for her.” 

 

Frey laughed aloud.

 

“Ah, that makes sense. I fear only you hold sway over Clori’s consciousness, Mr. Volkanon.”

 

“Alas, not even I can keep her wakeful throughout the day, but I can at least help her rise in the morning.” He replied, turning to go as he’d said he would. 

 

Frey happily fluttered over to the table and pulled out two chairs for herself and her guest. 

 

For his part, Bado stared fretfully at the fine furniture and fine linens of the royal banquet hall. It was one thing to pretend his manners were up to snuff with her, the princess who always insisted she  _ wasn’t _ a princess, but he hadn’t been mentally prepared to perform as a passable gentleman for all three of the castle butlers. 

 

“Wasn’t expecting such a big roster for breakfast.” He murmured uncertainly. 

 

“Oh, we always eat together when Volkanon makes a big breakfast like this.” She said with a casual flip of her hand as she passed him a set of silverware bound in a silk napkin. The touch of the fine fabric and the weight of the silver tableware in his wide, rough palm only redoubled his trepidation. He would not complain, of course. How could he? It wasn’t even that he didn’t want to share a table with the young butlers, it was only… well, he couldn’t help but feel like a dog that was trained to sit at the table like a man, a spectacle for the finer folk to titter and smirk at. He had always known she was out of his class and therefore unattainable, so he was utterly unprepared now that Selphia’s princess  _ had _ chosen him for her suitor to perform in the social role that designated to him. 

 

“Sorry if I embarrass you.” He mumbled as he unraveled the napkin and stared fretfully at the number of different forks, spoons, and knives that clinked in a pile before him. “I don’t  _ actually _ know my way around this kind o’ thing. I never needed to fake it too well in the knighthood, either…” 

 

Yes, back then he was also a trained dog in their eyes, a curiosity: Knight Captain Tristan’s elite overgrown dwarven bodyguard. He could remember sitting down to dine with the officers of Norad’s kingdom army and listening to the oblivious comments of the noble gentlemen wondering aloud if he were typical of his race, and should they not go find some more dwarves so they might all have such an imposing bodyguard like Tristan? 

 

“Bado?” Frey called, pulling him back to the present. The big man shook off the memory and the ugly feelings that accompanied it as best he could, putting on a smile for his princess. 

 

“Sorry. My mind just got to wanderin’ for a sec, there.” 

 

“Are you alright?” She plied, looking concernedly at him. 

 

“I’ll be fine, Fireflower.” He said, taking her hand and squeezing it, trying to be as reassuring as he may, “I’m just a little out of my depth in settings like this.” 

 

Suddenly a sly grin appeared on his lover’s face, prompting a confused frown form the blacksmith. 

 

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” She said cryptically. He bent an eyebrow at her but she refused to elaborate, reaching over and arranging his silverware around his plate with deft fingers. He stared at her, wondering just what the little minx meant by that smirk, but as Volkanon shepherded his two young pupils into the room, his attention was called onto them instead. 

 

Vishnal, excitable but nervous, babbled a greeting to the both of them, blushing profusely. Was he also unsure of how to address a man who had slept beside the princess’ bed the night before? As the young man sat down he knocked a glass over with his elbow, stuttering apologies and scattering forks and spoons as he hurried to snatch the cup and right it. Beside him Clorica floated up to the table in her typical dreamy fashion, gently bumping into it and blinking downward as if she’d only just seen the enormous thing. She sat down, yawned, and drooped back into slumber right before his eyes, even as Vishnal  _ again _ toppled the empty glass as he frantically tried to rearrange the silverware he’d disturbed. 

 

Volkanon sighed in exasperation, pitching the bridge of his nose, and Bado clamped his lips shut over a laugh threatening to bubble up and out of him. He glanced sidelong at Frey and she winked at him, sitting primly in her seat with her dress neatly cascading over the edge of her chair. 

 

Ah, this was what had so endeared him to this town to the extent he’d never consider moving elsewhere, even had he not assumed the role of guardianship to Kiel and Forte. Selphia was a place that wrapped her arms around misfits and cradled them close. A smile grew along his lips and he relaxed in his chair, tucking his napkin into his collar and reaching for a nearby platter of roasted potatoes. He  _ did _ belong here, after all. How could he have forgotten that well put-together individuals like Volkanon were the exception, rather than the rule in this odd little town? He passed the potatoes to his new girlfriend and speared one from his own plate with his fork, watching Volkanon try in vain to keep Clorica’s cuffs out of the jam as she proceeded—in her sleep!—to serve herself. Popping the potato into his mouth, he set his elbows on the table and watched the show across the table from him. The food was excellent, of course. Old Volkanon might be an uptight coot about all things rules and decorum, but the man was undeniably a master of all the crafts and trades he engaged in. His cooking rivaled Porcoline, even if the portly chef across town brought more artistry to his creations. 

 

Vishnal exclaimed over the food, gesturing excitedly with the little syrup boat in his hand, which sent a dollop of the sticky, viscous topping spatting down upon the tablecloth. Bado watched the creases in Volkanon’s forehead grow more pronounced, quietly enjoying the spectacle as his own more understated buffoonery went unnoticed. As Volkanon lectured his students, Frey took a sip of orange juice from a wine glass, glancing sidelong at her boyfriend with mischief in her green eyes. ‘I told you…’ her sly look seemed to say, even before she shifted in her seat, reaching over with a slender leg and tapping at his boots with her dainty walking shoes.

 

“Yeah, yeah.” He said under his breath, disguising his speech with two hands folded before him as if he were simply lost in thought as he chewed, “I get it. You were right and I was worried over nothin’.” He let his own smirk show as he returned her sidelong glance. 

 

The rest of the meal passed much the same until Frey perked up when a strange sound floated into the room from the sconced halls leading to the atrium. Bado bent his brow trying to place the odd noise. 

 

“Oh, that’s Venti yawning!” Frey chimed. “Let’s bring her some pancakes. I want to see how she’s doing and thank her for yesterday.” 

 

“Miss Frey, please allow me to—” Volkanon began, swiftly catching a spoon Clorica had unknowingly pushed over the edge of the table in her sleepy delirium. 

 

“No need, Mr. Volkanon, but thank you.” Frey replied sweetly, “You have your hands full and I have already eaten my fill.” 

 

Bado took one last pull of a heavily spiced milky drink he’d found in a pitcher but didn’t know the name of, and rose with her, wiping his mouth and beard and placing the silk napkin that had so unsettled him when he’d first sat down over the finished plate before his place setting. 

 

He held a large platter while Frey loaded it up with pancakes and syrup and fruit, nodded to the butlers, privately thanking them for their circus during the meal, and followed his dainty princess out of the dining hall toward the atrium. 

 

As they passed into the Great Dragon Hall, the sunlight cascading in upon them from the open ceiling above shone gleaming off of Ventuswill’s long serpentine body, glinting upon every scale and plume. She swiveled her magnificent head toward the sweet aroma of syrup and pancakes and rumbled appreciatively. 

 

“Ah, now  _ that _ is a good show of gratitude.” She growled happily as Bado deposited the large platter before her on the stone dais. Frey gracefully settled down into a seated position on the floor before the enormous dragon, her dress settling in a pool of delicate drapery about her. Wasn’t she cold in this open-aired room, so close to the winter solstice? Bado settled down beside her, supposing she must be used to the huge, drafty castle after living here so long already. He didn’t have anything against a big sturdy building persay, but it sure was nicer to settle down in a room small enough to be warmed by a hearth—or forge, as it were. He eyed Frey from the corner of his eye as Ventuswill began eagerly devouring the pancakes. Supposing they somehow stayed together for more than a short-term romance… would she expect him to come live here in this ostentatious edifice? 

 

“ _ The hell am I thinkin’, anyway?”  _ He thought, annoyed with himself, “ _ Why on earth would a princess wanna live in a cramped little shop when she's used to a literal palace?”  _ His mouth tightened and he tried to shove the thoughts away and pay attention to Selphia’s god as she licked the syrup from her chops and began addressing her audience. 

 

“Thank you. I was truly famished.” She boomed. Such a large creature couldn’t help but be loud, of course. Bado had learned that just as soon as Tristan had introduced him to Lady Ventuswill, but he’d spent plenty of time listening to her strange bestial voice when he’d served as her Dragon Knight in Tristan’s stead. The ex-knight swallowed. He’d neglected his friendship with the Native Dragon these long years, focused as he was on helping to raise Forte and Kiel and as always preferring to leave behind his memories from times before that. Would Lady Ventuswill hold that against him? He knew her to be fiercely loyal to her dearest friends, the guardians, but what would she have to say to  _ him _ after so many years of more or less avoiding her?

 

“How are you feeling now?” Frey asked, her voice a little too controlled. Bado eyed her. She was…  _ worried _ . Well, given the close calls they had experienced before with Ventuswill, he supposed he couldn’t blame her. 

 

“Much better.” The dragon rumbled, “It cost me quite a lot of rune energy to heal you, Princess. See to it you keep yourself out of harm’s way so I don’t have to expend myself so thoroughly again any time soon.” 

 

“Venti…” Frey said, quite but firm, her gaze fixed on the dragon’s big, glossy eyes as she leaned forward, brows furrowed. “You know why I’m worried. This is a bit too much like before… You’re an enormous confluence of runes with an attitude! You shouldn’t be collapsing just from healing one puny mortal.” 

 

Bado blinked as he watched his new girlfriend dish out a blend of sass and concern at the town’s actual God. He suppressed a smirk that tried valiantly to overcome his expression, feeling ridiculously proud of her moxie. 

 

“I  _ beg _ your pardon!” Ventuswill returned, aghast, “I  _ must  _ have misheard you because it sounded like you were  _ scolding _ me. Me! Who just  _ saved your life!!” _

 

“Don’t change the subject.” Frey countered as if batting away a pesky fly. “Just explain yourself.” 

 

“Impudent little…” Ventuswill growled, then sighed. “I admit, I did not expect to be quite so exhausted by the effort of healing you, Frey. However, you must remember that I was never meant to remain on Earth for so long. We are in uncharted waters. No one knows what happens to a Native Dragon who is preserved beyond her natural lifespan to the extent that I have been.” 

 

“But—” Frey began, but Lady Ventuswill raised one clawed forelimb in a gesture of prohibition. Frey clamped her mouth shut and looked up at her strange friend with a pouting expression. The dragon lowered her head very close to Frey and spoke solemnly:

 

“I may be a god, but as you know I am  _ not _ immortal. Someday I  _ will _ die… and it will be permanent, unlike before.”

 

Frey blinked rapidly, her throat moving as she swallowed. Bado winced, recognizing her anxiety and grief: the pure, willful denial of an unacceptable reality. 

 

“Don’t tell me after all we’ve done to save you… don’t tell me I’ll have to say goodbye before I’m old and gray. You’ve lived for millennia, you big jerk! Can’t you stick it out for one more measly mortal lifetime?” 

 

The dragon god chuckled, the sound mixed with a growl that reverberated off the stone walls around them. 

 

“Well I certainly don’t  _ plan _ on dying any time soon, you stubborn little creature.” She said, warmth permeating her huge voice, “I just need you to understand that there may be no answers just at present… none that I can give to you, or even ones I can know, myself.” 

 

“I understand, Venti.” Frey said reluctantly. “But I want you to promise me you’ll tell me the instant you know more, okay? I would think after everything we’ve been through you owe me that much, wouldn’t you say?” 

 

“So entitled, even though you’re not a hundredth of my age… “ The Native Dragon ‘tsk’ed, “But… yes. I will tell you as soon as I have any further understanding. Let us hope it is simply my senility and nothing more.” Frey nodded, putting on a brave smile. 

 

Gods and dragons… that was what he had always admired so much in her. It never seemed to matter what came crashing down on that woman; she’d always picked herself up and faced down the whole world in cheerful defiance. She’d lost it all once, but you’d never know that to see the way her adoptive hometown adored her. The pillar of strength within Frey was the mysterious antithesis to the melancholy within himself, not because it could unmake his own inner storms, but because seeing someone who responded to tragedy the way she did changed the game, what was possible. When he looked at her, he knew he could be different… better. He supposed that was what folks called ‘inspiration’. He didn’t really need a word to stick onto that feeling, though. The emotion itself, the life that ignited within him when he saw that spirit blazing within her, was enough to hold its own, with or without a name… just like she had been when she first stood up after falling from the sky and losing her memory some two years prior. Bado smiled gently at his lover as she stared determinedly at the dragon she’d risked everything to save. Who wouldn’t want to be better, looking at her?

 

“Now then,” Ventuswill growled, suddenly swiveling her long serpentine neck about to face the dwarven blacksmith directly. Bado blinked, back stiffening as he suddenly felt the whole of the Dragon God’s attention fixed upon him. “I need to speak with this one privately, so… Frey, do you suppose there are some farm chores you could attend to for a few minutes while I catch up with our local blacksmith?” 

 

“Oh. Um, sure.” Frey chirped, rising. Bado looked uncertainly at her, reluctant to part with his friend-turned-lover so soon after her injury and sudden recovery. 

 

“It will only be a few minutes.” Ventuswill assured, perhaps noting his nervous tension for the comment was directed more at the big dwarven man than the petit princess. Frey rose, nodding to Lady Ventuswill and then turning to Bado.

 

“Come find me when you’re done? I’ll be in the fields through the North exit.” She said. He nodded. 

 

“Yeah. I’ll come lookin’.” 

 

“Very good.” Lady Ventuswill interjected, “Off you go, then.” She extended a wing to nudge Frey along toward the great gateway behind her long, swishing tail. 

 

“Jeez! I’m goin’ I’m goin’!” Frey laughed, playfully batting at the enormous dragon’s wing shoving her along. 

 

As she vanished through the gateway, Ventuswill’s great, plumed head turned sharply toward Bado. He swallowed. 

 

“As you may have guessed… I am  _ not _ pleased.” She growled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man those butlers are a hoot. Writing any scene that includes two or more of them is always delightful. 
> 
> Poor Bado. For someone so apparently at ease, he has a lot of anxieties beneath the surface. I hope he can get to a point soon where he feels more comfortable with himself as Frey’s partner regardless of her social standing. 
> 
> Thanks, as always for reading and feel free to tell me what you think of this chapter in the comments! I love reading your thoughts and impressions! <3


	23. The Scolding

Sweat began to bead on the back of Bado’s neck as he looked sheepishly up at the enormous Native Dragon glaring at him. 

 

“Uh…” he said stupidly. What on earth do you say to an angry god, anyway? 

 

“I have heard some troubling things of late. And somehow _you_ seem to be always right at the center of them.” She said, low, her tone dangerously calm. Bado shifted his weight back and forth on his big feet and drew in a long breath. 

 

“It’s been a hell of a week. But if you’re lookin’ for a confession, I gotta know exactly what I’m bein’ accused of first.” He sighed, shoulders drooping slightly. The enormous dragon tilted her head, narrowing her glossy, black eyes at the man before her. 

 

“I have heard you and our princess have been spending a lot of time together recently. Coincidentally, her relationship to Dylas has also recently soured to the point he confided in me his fear that she might be courting _you_ behind his back.” She stared unblinking at him as he swallowed and tried his best not to blink too many times. He was about to be backed into a corner. Ventuswill knew of his inability to lie, of course. She was going to get whatever she wanted out of him… “What _exactly_ have you been up to these past days, my former knight? And why did these events culminate in such a potentially deadly injury to her?”

 

“I, uh…” He fumbled, leaning away from the huge dragon. His mind was blank. No clever ideas or evasions came to him. He was going to be skewered. 

 

“ _Are_ you having an affair with her?” The dragon demanded, eyes blazing. 

 

“W-we ain’t been gettin’ into any—er— _really_ intimate territory, so I don’t know that I’d really call it an ‘affair’…” Technically true, for the bare reason that by ‘really intimate’ he meant they hadn’t actually had sex as of yet, even if they were headed that way…

 

“Are. You. Her. Lover?” Ventuswill asked in a clipped, unforgiving voice. Bado stared at her, finally cornered. He let a long moment pass as his mind frantically tried to claw his way to an exit strategy, but of course the consequences of fleeing from this interrogation were likely to be worse than the alternative. He held fast, steeled his nerve, and spoke with resolve: 

 

“Yeah.”

 

Ventuswill the Divine Wind drew herself up to her full, magnificent height, plumes fanning out as if she were about to spit a torrent of fire to incinerate him for presuming to court her beloved princess. Then, too suddenly for his mind to fully comprehend, she deflated, slumping into a defeated posture with a whining sigh, and grumbling: 

 

“Oh… fiddlesticks…” She hung her great reptilian head in sorrow. The blacksmith blinked stupidly at her for a beat. 

 

“S-sorry?” He fumbled. He’d expected a poor reaction out of her, given her attachment to Dylas, but he hadn’t prepared himself for her forlorn air of disappointment. 

 

“I had such high hopes for them…” She sighed, “I didn’t want to believe his suspicions about you were even possible. It’s really a shame…” 

 

Bado stared dumbfounded at the dragon for another few heartbeats. Finally, as his shock began to wear off, a simmering sense of indignation clawed its way to the top of the tangled mess that was his emotions right now. 

 

“Look, Lady Ventuswill, I know I ain’t ‘prince’ material, but the way Dylas was acting to her… I _know_ I’ll do better than _that_ . I’ll treat her the way she ought’a be treated, the way she _wants_ to be treated by her lover.” 

 

“You had _better_ do better than him!” She suddenly snapped, “If _you_ flew off the handle and hit her, not even I would have been able to help her!” Bado flinched backward, the idea too terrible to think of. 

 

“I… was talkin’ about all the stuff Dylas did _before_ that…” He said, eyeing the dragon as if he’d never realized just how dangerous she could be. “I kinda thought it went without sayin’ I’d never lay a hand on her like that…” 

 

“Dylas probably would have said the same thing…” She grumbled, looking off into the distance, “He’s probably shattered right about now… poor thing.” 

 

Bado flinched again. He’d known his own relationship to the dragon had become stale and withered in the long years since he’d served as her dragon knight. He’d known as well that she treasured Dylas as a sacred friend who had given his life to preserve her own. But _still…_ didn’t she know how he’d treated poor Frey in their relationship?

 

“And _really_ , old friend… Frey and Dylas are young and reckless to be sure, but I would have expected _you_ to know better. Aren’t you old enough by now to keep yourself out of these kinds of dramatics?” 

 

“Age and wisdom don’t _always_ overlap…” The blacksmith grumbled, looking away. 

 

“Indeed.” Ventuswill agreed with a sigh. “But you will need to cultivate some before long, my friend. I will not always be around to intervene for your sakes.” Bado eyed the enormous dragon. 

 

“You’re talkin’ like you expect to snuff it any day now…” He said warily, giving her a suspicious eye. She snorted derisively.

 

“Nonsense. I’m only trying to save you from yourselves.” She huffed. The conversation died off in the breath that followed. Ventuswill stared at Bado, looking as if she were just about to say something, but she kept her jaws clamped shut. Bado shuffled in place on his big feet. Few were the times he could recall being more desperate to exit a room. 

 

“Are you… gonna try and stop us?” He ventured finally, tension in his slowly collapsing posture. 

 

“Stop you?” Ventuswill echoed, her eyes focusing on him again. “Certainly not. I would not dream of compromising my subjects’ free will in these matters. I only wish you both had gone about it in a more upstanding fashion. Sneaking around behind Dylas’ back… it’s no wonder the situation went sour.” She shook her head ruefully. Bado blinked, his stomach dropping.

 

Did she blame _him_ for Dylas’ actions? Simply because he and Frey had developed feelings for each other before she left her foul-tempered boyfriend? Suddenly, Ventuswill didn’t seem so much like his ally anymore. It really had been a lifetime since he’d stood by her side as her ‘Dragon Knight’…  Bado shoved his hands in his pockets, his shoulders rounded. 

 

“Was there anything else?” He asked stiffly. 

 

“Yes…” She rumbled. “Watch yourself, old friend. I find Nancy’s account of your recent relapse disturbing. Romantic rivalry is _not_ an acceptable reason to let your demons loose, Bado Dramhau.” The big dwarven man twitched at the use of his full name, almost bowing to her on reflex. Inwardly he scolded his habitual obedience to the chain of command as he understood it. Damn that Tristan for making such a superior soldier out of him. 

 

“Understood.” He said simply. He bowed deliberately now, if only to hide his troubled expression. 

 

“Good. Go, then. I expect you’ll want to return to her side straight away. Just behave yourself, please. And stay away from Dylas until you two have had some time to cool off. I will tolerate no further violent incidents. Am I clear?” 

 

“Yes, your majesty.” Bado said firmly. 

 

“Good. Dismissed.” She said, flicking her tail toward the north doorway. He strode through it with a truly fretful expression reflecting his soul in that moment. 

 

Ventuswill _wanted_ Frey to be with Dylas. His former friend who, together with Tristan, had carved out a place for him to become a better man seemed to see him only as an interloper and a liability in this situation. His stomach clenched as his existing anxieties about the relationship he’d entered into with Frey began to writhe about inside him while he labored to process this new information. His feet crunched in the half-frozen soil of the fields to the North of the castle. This place where Frey practiced the powerful talent for cultivation the Earthmates all shared… in his tormented state, Bado could not see the beauty of the fields, frost-kissed in the face of oncoming winter. His heart seemed to have sunk lower in his chest. It was noticeably more difficult to hold his head up as he approached Frey tilling the earth with nary a sign she’d suffered a severe concussion the day before. 

 

“ _Just what am I supposed to do, Lady Ventuswill? You’re only going to be disappointed that I’m not him from here on out… isn’t that right?”_

 

* * * * * 

 

Frey looked up as a tall, broad-shouldered figure appeared in her peripheral vision. She stood up, flashing a smile at her big, dwarven boyfriend and stepping toward him as he approached. He returned her smile weakly, his eyes troubled. Her own expression collapsed into concern. 

 

“Bado? What’s the matter? Is Venti okay?” She asked softly. 

 

“Huh?” He said, looking confused, “Oh. Yeah. She’s fine…” He glanced away. 

 

“What did she want to talk to you about?” She tilted her head, her worry growing as he refused to make eye contact. 

 

“Just warnin’ me to behave myself, really.” He shrugged. She supposed that made sense. She, too, had been concerned about the possibility of him relapsing into a violent state. That alone might be enough to suppress his jovial spirit like this, but she sensed something more.

 

“Bado? Are you alright?” Frey asked softly, reaching for his big hand. He looked at her finally, his handsome face bent in a troubled, lost expression. 

 

“I’m… I’ll be alright…” He murmured, squeezing her hand. “I’d better head home though, if you’ll be alright from here. Forte’ll have my hide if I leave the shop unattended _all_ day.” His face took on a playful, apologetic air but the sorrow in his eyes lingered. 

 

“Okay…” Frey said, letting her worry show. “Can I see you later? This evening?” 

 

“Yeah. I think I’d like that.” He hummed, a genuine, if quite, smile creasing the lines at the corners of his eyes. She stepped closer, leaning against his front and rising up onto her toes. She reached out her neck and flickered her gaze between his mouth and eyes. 

 

“Heh.” He huffed a little ghost of a laugh, “You’re… what’s that fancy word the nobles use? ’Incorrigable’.” He accused, bending an eyebrow at her. She gave a little shrug and smirked expectantly at him. To her immediate satisfaction, he gathered her up in his burly arms, lifting her off her feet, pinned against his chest, and kissed her sweetly. She accepted the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck, curling her fingers in his fur-lined collar. She kissed him again, lingering against his mouth, savoring the warmth, trying to show him what her words couldn’t seem to get across when he was turned inward like this. 

 

When he finally set her down once more, his expression had grown more relaxed, to her satisfaction. She gave his hands one more squeeze, doing her best to will some life into him. He smiled gently at her for a brief moment before turning to go. They murmured quiet goodbyes to one another, reluctant as usual to actually part ways. Come to think of it, wasn’t it a little odd for Bado to be insisting he needed to go do work? Normally she’d expect any little excuse to avoid actually working in his little shop… The princess’ brow creased as she watched the broad back of her lover disappear through the passage to the North that connected to Airship Way. What on earth had turned his mood upside down like that? Prior to his conversation with Venti he’d been perfectly willing to stick right by her side. 

 

Frowning, Frey began walking briskly back toward the castle, herself. A moment later she barged into the audience chamber of The Divine Wind with a purposeful air. 

 

“Hey!” She barked as she paced around the large stone dais the town’s god rested her big rump on all day. Venti’s feathered head swung around to regard Frey with a startled expression. 

 

“I beg your pardon!” She said, a reptilian hiss in her shocked tone, “Is _that_ any way to address me?” Frey ignored her indignation, halting before her strange friend and jabbing an accusing finger at her in the air between them. 

 

“What the heck did you do to my boyfriend?” She demanded. Ventuswill stared blankly at her, tilting her great head in confusion. 

 

“Excuse me?” 

 

“Bado! He just left. He’s all upside-down about something all of a sudden. What did you say to him?” She said, somewhere between urgent and irritated. Venti nodded suddenly in recognition.

 

“Ah, Bado, yes… I am still getting used to thinking of him as your partner…” She grumbled, glancing away.

 

“Well you had better hurry up and get used to it.” Frey returned, glaring, “Now, can you please tell me why he’s suddenly so put out?” The great dragon bent her reptilian brow at the princess. 

 

“I should think scolding one of my subjects for acting the way he has of late to be well within my rights.” She growled. 

 

“And just _when_ were you going to scold _me_ about it? Or Dylas?” Frey demanded, glaring. “Why are you being extra hard on Bado?” Venti sighed heavily. 

 

“You do not understand. You and Dylas are _young._ I am not altogether surprised when one of your age finds him or herself embroiled in some kind of interpersonal drama. But Bado is past the years for sewing wild oats. He ought not to have become involved in something like this.” 

 

“Venti,” Frey sighed, looking fretfully up at her, “I’m sorry to disagree with you so plainly, but that’s bullshit!” The big dragon startled, snorting angrily. She opened her jaws to protest, but Frey held up a forestalling hand and froze her friend with a hardened glare. “I won’t stand for you putting the blame on Bado just because he’s older than me. If you have to blame someone for ch-cheating on Dylas, you should blame me. If you want someone to blame for Dylas hitting me, you should blame _Dylas_ ! No one _made_ him attack Bado like that. It wasn’t the first time, either!” Ventuswill’s eyes hardened briefly at that, but she looked away immediately almost as if she were… guilty?

 

“Venti… Did you _know_ that already?” 

 

“I… yes. Dylas spoke to me not long afterward. I warned him not to challenge Bado to a fight again at the time, but—”

 

“Seriously?” She interrupted, her eyes suddenly burning. “If you already knew what a jerk Dylas has been lately, then _why_ are you being like this?” 

 

“Like what?” The dragon demanded, flabbergasted. 

 

“Coming down on Bado like that! He’s b-been doing everything he c-can for me lately!” Frey blurted out in a wavering, high-pitched version of her usual voice. Tears pooled in her eyelids and spilled over her cheeks. “He w-was the _only_ one who was really there for m-me last week when Dylas was s-so awful! An’ what has he got for it? He got punched in the face! And now he gets blamed for _me_ getting hit, too?” She stared up at Venti, sniffling as tears rolled quietly down her face. The dragon’s plumes flattened down against her head and neck. She looked like a dog that had been caught stealing food. 

 

“Frey, I-I…” She stammered, eyes widening. 

 

“He d-doesn’t deserve this.” Frey sniffed, “I just want to be with the person who actually acts like he l-loves me… And you just made him feel so guilty that he ran off.” She rubbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her dress. 

 

“I… am sorry.” Venti sighed. “It was never my intention to cause you further upset. I was just so shocked you and Dylas broke up so suddenly. I had really hoped you two would be happy together permanently…”

 

“Well you _shouldn’t_ have hoped for that.” Frey pouted, “He was a lousy boyfriend.” 

 

“Yes... It’s clear to me now that I have sorely misunderstood your relationship with Dylas.” The great dragon said sadly. “And so I, too, am responsible for your grief. I am so sorry I did not intervene on your behalf. Had I known—” 

 

“I never needed you to intervene for me.” Frey said quietly. “I needed someone to tell me that I could decide for myself how I wanted to be treated… that I didn’t have to stay with Dylas just because I loved him.” She looked up at Venti with tearful eyes. “Bado was there for me when I needed it most. _Everyone_ else was too busy assuring me it would work out with Dylas or falling all over themselves to help plan a wedding I never agreed to...” 

 

The enormous Native Dragon in front of Frey shrank visibly at the princess’ words. Some small part of Frey felt a spiteful satisfaction. The isolation and self-doubt she’d suffered because of their misunderstanding her situation still stung. Of course they all believed they had her best interest at heart, but their good intentions would have married her off to Dylas without question, even following his cruel treatment of her just a few days prior. 

 

“I am so sorry...” Venti repeated, looking down. “I wanted both you and Dylas to be happy, but I blinded myself to the ills of your relationship and his behavior because it wasn’t the outcome I wished to see...” 

 

Frey sighed, her more compassionate nature wrapping arms around her. The resentment and pain subsided and she let her gaze turn warm as she looked up at her unusual friend. 

 

“I forgive your oversight.” She said calmly. “I was blind to it until recently, too, so I can hardly throw stones.” The great dragon met her gaze and nodded. 

 

“It seems I have done Bado a very unfair turn. If he has truly won your heart by doing for you what I and all your other friends were not wise enough to do, then I owe him a great debt and a heartfelt apology.

 

“Thank you. He’s… he’s very important to me. I don’t want him to suffer because of what he did for me, so... if you could try to undo any worries your words started in him, I would be very grateful, Venti.” 

 

“You love him?” The great dragon ventured in a tentative voice. 

 

“I… the last person I said ‘I love you’ to kind of broke my heart…” Frey said, looking down. “I’m not sure I’m ready to say it again, yet. But… I’ll say this much: I care for him deeply. He’s become someone I want close beside me, someone I want to share all kinds of intimacy with. I trust him, not simply because he’s never hurt me, but because he went out of his way to help me when he didn’t need to. He already had feelings for me, and as far as he knew I was about to get married to someone else. There was nothing for him to gain except the hope that he could do some good for me. So, even though it pained him to stand by while I tried to salvage a relationship with someone else, and even thinking there was no way I would ever return his feelings… he did everything he could to help me.” She looked up into Venti’s glossy, black eyes once more, “Doesn’t that sound like someone who deserves to be loved?” 

 

Venti looked thoroughly abashed as she shrank down close to the stone floor. 

 

“I have most definitely been too hard on him…” She sighed. “But, I have known him a long time and never have I seen him so committed to a partner. I simply assumed he had found his next diversion and it happened to be you, as you are recently disenchanted with your partner. If I have so misjudged his intentions regarding you on top of everything else, then I owe him a very handsome apology to be sure.” She sighed. “I will speak to him again at the next available opportunity.”

 

“Thank you.” Frey sniffled, cracking a smile for her friend. 

 

“I feel compelled to reiterate my apology for having failed to be there for you in the way you needed recently. Even though I am glad Bado provided you the support you needed, I feel terribly guilty that I did not even realize you were suffering so.” 

 

“I already said I forgive you.” Frey smiled tearfully, shaking her head. For all her previous pain, it was truly easy for her to smile at her friend in this moment: a strange but sweet truth. “Thanks, Venti.” She added, wiping at her eyes.

 

“Of course. I may have dropped the ball with our dwarven blacksmith today, but all three of you are my precious friends. I do not wish to see any of you suffer, especially because of my own failure to pay attention.”

 

“I know, Venti. I appreciate that you care for us.” She said earnestly. 

 

“I fear Bado is not the only one I have to worry over just at present, though.” Venti sighed. “I believe you, too, can guess at how undone Dylas must be after all this.” Frey looked down, nodding. She _did_ know. He’d tear himself to pieces feeling bad about it. Still…

 

“It’s a little hard for me to think about that right now. Sorry.” She murmured. 

 

“Is that so?” The dragon replied, tilting her head. Frey looked up at her, bewildered. 

 

“He hurt me, Venti… in a number of ways. On top of that he tried his best to seriously injure the person who had supported me most through all of this. I still care for Dylas… but it’s difficult for me to reach my compassion for him right now. I’m still angry with him.” 

 

She felt oddly calmer as she finished speaking. It was good to admit it to someone other than Bado who she’d confided in so much already. Yes... It was time for her to open up to her friends again. Hell, half her recent escapades were more than likely circulating on the town rumor mill already. If they heard it from her they’d at least be hearing the truth. 

 

“That is understandable, of course.” Venti allowed, “However, I am seriously concerned that he will be in some danger from himself if his feelings about this situation are not addressed.” 

 

“You are more than welcome to speak to him about it as soon as you like.” Frey said reasonably, “I still need time.” 

 

“ _I’m done living according to when and what_ he _wants…”_ She thought, a distant sense of power and confidence glimmering in her heart. 

 

“I understand.” Venti said, sounding only a tiny bit disappointed. She hesitated a long moment, looking fretful. 

 

“What is it now, featherhead?” Frey chuckled, feeling rather amicable to her strange friend now that all of that had been sorted. 

 

“I… well… I admit, I do not understand much about romances between mortals. I find myself very curious about your relationship to Bado.”

 

“Oh? Well I’m not sure how much I could possibly tell you, since it’s only just begun.” Frey laughed. 

 

“I see… Well perhaps another time, then.” She acquiesced. 

 

“You can still ask, if you like.” Frey smiled. Venti perked up once more. She stared at her with a strange intensity glittering in her inhuman eyes.

 

“Very well, then. I wish for you to tell me about love, please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, you guys. I have been wrestling with this chapter for at least three weeks. I consumed my whole backlog during that time but I’m finally posting it. I’m out sure why it was so difficult to get the tone right for Bado’s conversation with Venti. It’s probably something to do with wanting to believably show her being pretty much an asshole to him because she’s so fixated on Dylas’ struggles but still maintain the idea that she cares deeply about Bado too, even though it’s been a while since they’ve been close in any way. Myeehhghghg. I hope the chapter didn’t feel too overworked. It’s honestly difficult for me to tell at this point. I’ve just been staring and re-writing and re-reading and re-editing it for so long it’s ridiculous. 
> 
> Next week we’ll see how Doug and Dylas are doing on this strange day after all hell broke loose. Please look forward to it!


	24. Agendas

“I wish to know… how do you know you want to be lovers?” Venti asked in serious tones, “Why did you and Bado not simply become good friends instead?” She looked genuinely interested. Frey blushed. 

 

“W-well… I suppose it has a lot to do with wanting to kiss him.” She said, smirking even as her face grew red as a strawberry. 

 

“ _And then some…”_ her inner voice immediately appended. But, well… Venti didn’t need to hear about _that._

 

 _“_ But _why_ do you want to kiss him?” The dragon asked, looming her scaly head closer to Frey as she pressed her for answers. Frey raised her hands in a placating gesture. 

 

“I don’t know if my answer will be satisfying for you, but… I just think he’s very handsome. When I look at him my heart flutters and my whole body feels light. It’s not something I have to think about. It just happens.” She shrugged. 

 

“Hmm… so then is the nature of lovers simply friends who are also attracted to one another physically?” 

 

“I don’t think it’s as simple as that, but I’m not really an expert on the subject. Nancy would probably know better how to describe these things.” Frey offered. Venti slumped a little, looking disappointed. Suddenly Frey felt compelled to at least try to answer her strange friend’s curiosity, regardless of the difficulty of the subject matter. 

 

“I guess…” She began, looking up and tapping her chin with an outstretched finger, “It’s like… on top of seeing him as a good friend my body reacts to him. But on top of _that_ , I also feel this pull toward him in my heart… I feel _connected_ to him. He understands me. When he looks at me I know he really sees me.” The enormous Native Dragon before her bent her rapt attention on the little princess as she struggled to explain. “But at the same time... I’m not sure if I believe any of that stuff about ‘fate’ either. I think the reason why he understands my feelings is a lot simpler than that. I think he’s just paying attention. He’s interested in me in a way other people aren’t, and that seems to have motivated him to look closer than most. He listens to me like no one else does.” 

 

Frey felt her gaze turn soft as she thought back over the last week: all the tender looks and soft spoken reassurances, Bado’s careful words to her—the efforts of a man trying to help without taking her choice from her. Despite his physical size and strength, despite his violent past, despite everything Bado was truly a gentle soul; and one Frey treasured. 

 

“Hmmmm.” Venti rumbled thoughtfully. “I must admit, I feel little closer to understanding. I do appreciate your efforts though. Perhaps someday I will be reborn in the next life in a body that was meant to be part of such things.”

 

Frey tilted her head. 

 

“There you go again, talking like you’ve got one foot in the grave.” She bent a fretful gaze on her friend. “You promise you’re okay?” 

 

“I am fine for the time being.” Venti chuckled. “You needn’t worry.” Frey did not quite like hearing such a vague answer, but she knew better than to try and talk Venti out of something she’d resolved to be mulish about. Besides, Frey had another question burning on her tongue. 

 

“Venti?” 

 

“Yes?” 

 

“Do you think I’m wicked? I mean… for confessing my feelings to Bado before I broke up with Dylas?” 

 

“Hmmm” The great dragon rumbled. “I admit I am disappointed when I reflect on how events have unfolded.” 

 

Frey shrank in shame. She had already known the truth of it, but all her many burning emotions of the past fortnight were like a red-hot iron. It was not yet possible for her to touch them, and so she could not yet work through to the other side of these feelings. She’d known from the moment she’d let slip her newfound feelings for Bado that she’d committed a betrayal to Dylas. But in light of all his recent transgressions the act of choosing another lover in spite of him had felt like seizing the power she should have always had over her own fate. Dylas’ smothering entitlement to her every choice could not touch her as she’d pressed her mouth to Bado’s. Even in the face of that catharsis, however, she _had_ done wrong. She had to own that. 

 

“But as I understand it,” Venti continued, oblivious to Frey’s internal reflections, “These kinds of situations are commonplace in mortal romances. I suppose it is your contrary natures?” 

 

“‘Contrary nature’ is a hell of a phrase to hear coming from _your_ mouth.” Frey jibed, hiding her feelings of guilt behind her humor. The dragon only snorted. 

 

“In _any_ case... Given that all three of you are guilty of some transgression or other, I cannot stand on one side or another of this conflict.”

 

“I wouldn’t expect you to.” Frey said, shaking her head. “As long as you apologize to Bado for today, I’ll ask no more of you.” 

 

“I shall. As for the rest, I believe the best course is to appoint myself some sort of mediator. I know all three of you are fairly raw at the moment, but I do not wish any of you to visit more harm on each other.”

 

“We don’t want that either. I would of course appreciate your help to ensure it.” 

 

Venti nodded, rising back up to a more regal posture. 

 

“Very well, then. What do you intend to do now, princess?” 

 

“Well, knowing Jones I should probably go back to the clinic so he can verify that I am in no more danger from my injury.”

 

“Agreed. Putting his fears to rest would be a kindness as well as being simply good sense.” 

 

“Beyond that, I guess I’m just anxious for things to go back to normal.” Frey shrugged. Venti tilted her head. 

 

“You just might find that ‘normal’ is not what it was before, my friend. Your choice of lover is a most unusual one. The pair of you are likely to be the talk of the town as soon as everyone finds out.” 

 

“Right.” Frey grumbled, glancing away, “D’ya think maybe you could keep it quiet for us while the dust settles?” 

 

“Hmm. I can certainly refrain from shouting it in the streets, but you know Selphia. I would honestly be shocked if more than a third of the town remains ignorant of the fact, even now.” 

 

Frey sighed hugely. 

 

“Things just can be easy for me, can they?” 

 

“Heaven’s no.” Venti chuckled, her strange laughter reverberating off of the tall stone walls around her. 

 

“Well... One day at a time, I suppose.” Frey said finally. No matter the difficulty the townspeople might cause her, the boon that was her newfound bond with Selphia’s dwarven blacksmith glowed within her like a talisman warding away such concerns. 

 

“A good mentality.” Venti nodded. “Run along now. And don’t worry: I’ll see to my promise as soon as dragon-ly possible.” She winked a big, glossy eye at Frey, who smiled gratefully in return. 

 

“Thanks, Venti. It means a lot to have your support, even of other folks around here will be less than thrilled about our pairing up.” 

 

The two unusual friends exchanged farewells and Frey strode out the South Gate toward the town proper. It was time to tie up the loose end with Dr. Jones so she could put yesterday’s mess well and truly behind her. 

 

* * * * * 

Doug groaned as he stirred to life the morning after the object of his affection very nearly got himself killed. Despite the fact he’d collapsed into slumber just as soon as he’d managed to return home, it felt as though he’d barely slept at all. His pointed ears drooped and the clammy feeling about his eyes suggested he probably had some impressive dark circles beneath them. 

 

“ _Why did I have to fall for_ you?” His thoughts protested in resentful tones. The fool was going to worry him to death and they weren’t even lovers! 

 

“ _Not yet, anyway...”_

 

“No...” He murmured aloud, teeth clenching at the thought.

 

“ _Don’t do this to yourself... don’t get your hopes up.”_

 

Perhaps _this_ was why he felt so exhausted. Balancing between his hopes and his fears regarding the half-monster he’d risked his life to protect was so draining... If Ventuswill could use her magic to erase his infatuation it would almost— _almost—_ be worth groveling before her to ask for it. 

 

The red-headed dwarf sat up in bed, scratching at the roots of his hair and yawning. There was little point in staying in bed. Sooner or later he’d just get scolded by Granny Blossom for lazing about, and he wasn’t in the mood to lie there with only his thoughts for company right now anyway. 

 

He rose, washed his face, dressed, and shuffled into the kitchen, yawning every few seconds. 

 

“Oh! Well, good morning Doug.” A frail old voice greeted him. He blinked rapidly, bringing Blossom’s wrinkled face into focus as she turned to him from where she’d been standing by the stove. 

 

“Mornin’ Granny.” He mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. 

 

“It’s unusual to see you rise so early.” She observed, something questioning behind her pleasant manner. “But it is fortunate, since your breakfast will actually be warm.” She gave a little chuckle and turned back to the skillet on the stove. Her withered hands worked slow but methodically, the familiarity of a task done thousands of times guiding them. She picked up a plate already bearing a mound of fluffy white rice and scooped a golden-yellow omelette from the skillet onto the plate with a spatula. Doug’s eyes watched with dazed interest as she garnished the dish and deposited it at her tiny kitchen table next to a glass of juice and a bowl of fruit. 

 

“Well, go on. You won’t be able to support anyone else if you don’t take care of yourself, you know.” She clucked. Doug bent an eyebrow at the old woman but moved to sit, anyway. His stomach had begun to growl as the delicious aroma of his most favorite breakfast taunted his senses. 

 

“What’s the occasion, Granny?” He asked warily as he looked down at the fresh, hot meal. Blossom moved slowly around the table and sat across from him, moving as if the creaking of the wooden chair were actually the creaking of her elderly bones. 

 

“Oh, I just thought you could use a little comfort food after yesterday.” She mused. 

 

“What about yesterday?” He grumbled warily. Damn Selphia and its damned rumormill! A guy couldn’t even let his own thoughts settle before everyone in town was askin’ him about what happened. Blossom looked up at him, her droopy old eyes sympathetic. 

 

“Dolce came by earlier this morning. Said Pico wanted to speak to me about something.” 

 

“Little snitch...” Doug growled, scooping a bite of rice into his mouth. He melted a little as the warm, delicious food touched his tongue, almost as if breathing life back into him. “ _Gods bless this old bird...”_ he thought, despite her meddling. 

 

“I won’t pry too much.” Blossom assured, “But I just wanted to say that you’re a remarkable young man, Doug.”

 

“How d’ya figure that?” Doug returned dubiously. 

 

“Well, believe it or not, I’ve had some experiences with love in my long years,” The old woman winked at him, “I know what it’s like to have unrequited feelings for someone. And, well, I just think it’s admirable that you have been so determined to help the boy even as he pines after the princess he’s offended.” 

 

“Didn’t _offend_ her... he nearly _killed_ her.” Doug mumbled. Of course he never wished harm on Frey, even though she had held the heart of the man he loved and then betrayed him. It was just, well, now that he knew she was alright, his other feelings regarding her were coming to the surface: anger, resentment, jealousy... Frey had done so much for him, and yet he could not be properly thankful to her now that she had wounded that stupid hay-brained fool he loved so much. What was she thinking, anyway? Doug was absolutely favorable to the idea of her making lovey-dovey eyes at Bado if it meant her and Dylas were no longer exclusively attached to one another, but could she at least have done it in some other way that didn’t involve breaking Dylas’ heart like that? Who was he kidding, though; Dylas’ heart was always going to be broken no matter how it ended. He probably should just be grateful the princess had removed herself from being his rival, but he couldn’t quite let go of his anger towards her, anyway.

 

“Yes, I heard about that.” Blossom was saying. Doug struggled to wrestle his attention back onto her words instead of on his own inner thoughts. “That whole situation was quite a mess, wasn’t it?” 

 

“Granny... what are you trying to tell me?” Doug sighed suddenly, too worn out to dance around a topic. Blossom blinked at him for a moment, but regained her composure almost instantly. 

 

“Only that no matter how things turn out, you deserve to be happy, Doug.” She said warmly. 

 

Doug eyed her with a mixture of gratitude and shame. After everything he’d done, all his mistakes and all the ways he’d hurt the people of this town... how could she say something like that? As if reading his mind, the uncanny old woman added: 

 

“You need to let go of the past so you can embrace your future, Doug. I promise you are the only one still dwelling on your previous mistakes.” He fidgeted with his fork, brow knotted. Finally he looked sheepishly up at the old woman. 

 

“D’ya really think so?” 

 

“I do. And I’ve got a lot of experience to back it up.” She chuckled. “Let it go, Doug. Sooner or later you need to give yourself permission to move on and be happy. No one else is holding anything against you, so you continuing to do so is just self fladulation, now.” Doug glanced away. 

 

“It ain’t as easy as just snapping my fingers and turning off those thoughts, though.” 

 

“I know, son. It might not be a fast process, but you need to begin it as soon as  possible. Once you let go of hating yourself, you’ll have more room in your heart for love, after all.” 

 

“Dunno how much good that’s gonna do me, though.” The dwarf grumbled. It was still too painful to hope Dylas would begin to look at him that way. Blossom reached across the table and patted his hand with her wrinkled one. 

 

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about it, boy. You might be surprised if you stop assuming the worst. Heheh!” She gripped the edge of the table and hoisted herself up onto her crooked legs. “I’ve got to go down and open up the shop now. You can take the day off today if you like.” Doug eyed her suspiciously. Granny _never_ encouraged him to slack off... What was happening around here? 

 

“Thanks, Blossom....” He finally said. She turned in place and offered him a matronly smile before continuing on her ponderous way downstairs. 

 

Doug took his time finishing his breakfast. Blossom’s words hadn’t thrown any magic switches inside him, but he _did_ feel more relaxed as he gazed out the window, chewing thoughtfully on the food she’d prepared for him. 

 

 _Could_ he really be happy? It was still a little scary to think about seriously. Nevertheless, his heart felt lighter so he said a silent thank-you to the gods for that small blessing. 

 

Happiness or no, however, there was one thing he had to see to as soon as possible. Selphia’s other dwarf now represented a standing threat to the man Doug loved. He had to figure out some way of  neutralizing that threat or otherwise protecting Dylas. Unfortunately, despite his time as a spy, the red-headed dwarf did not consider himself an effective schemer. Therefore, there was only one course: he had to confront the blacksmith directly about it. 

 

* * * * * 

 

“Rise and shine!” A woman’s voice attacked Dylas’ bestial ears. He rolled over with a growl, turning the pillow over his face to block the light Meg let in as she snatched open the curtains. “If you were thinking of moping the day away, you’re in for disappointment, pal.” She said mercilessly, yanking the blanket off of him. The elven maiden ‘tsked’ as she looked down at him. 

 

“You couldn’t even bother to put on some pajamas?” She scolded. Dylas looked away, blushing and furious. 

 

“Well I didn’t realize I was going to start the day by getting accosted!” He barked. Meg only shrugged as she tossed the blanket back over him, her cheeks and ears only faintly pink. 

 

“You should know by now we aren’t going to let you wallow.” She said simply. 

 

“We?” Dylas echoed, a feeling of dread rising up. 

 

“Indeed.” A male voice joined the conversation. Arthur D. Lawrence, prince of Norad, stood in the doorway with perfect posture, as always. Dylas groaned. 

 

“Curse you both...” 

 

“Curse us?” Meg demanded, “You should be _thanking_ us!” 

 

“Agreed. We are the only reason you were not roused by Porco, himself, this morning.” Arthur concurred, smiling that quiet, sly smile of his. They had a fair point, Dylas admitted privately to himself. Being bombarded with Porco’s well.... ‘aura’ first thing in the morning was truly a worse scenario. 

 

“So what exactly are you expecting from me?” Dylas grumbled. 

 

“Well for one thing, I expect you to put on some pants.” Meg glared at him, hands upon her hips and foot tapping irritably, “But after you’re decent it’s time to go see Dr. Jones and make sure Frey’s alright.”

 

“She’s fine.” Dylas sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Pico already snooped on her at the castle for us yesterday. Ventuswill healed her.” 

 

“You may already know that, thanks to the intervention of a mischievous poltergeist, but the rest of the town doesn’t necessarily realize you do.” Arthur explained with an air of patience. 

 

“So what?” Dylas returned shortly. 

 

“So, you must express your concern to the persons involved in the incident so they do not think you are simply careless of the consequences of your actions.” The prince said firmly.

 

“What’s it matter. They can hate me if they want to.” Dylas grumbled, then added: “Meg, turn around.” She did so. He stood up and stalked over to his dresser, snatching out a pair of underwear and trousers. He jammed his legs into the garments and straightened up to glare at Arthur as the prince addressed his comment: 

 

“We are not permitting you to abandon your progress or your life as a citizen of Selphia. You _must_ present yourself to others, that they may understand your intent, rather than assuming the worst as a result of this incident.”

 

“Yeah,” Meg added, “Plus you owe an apology to Frey, Bado, and Doug too.

 

“Doug?!” Dylas demanded reflexively, his face growing hot. “What the hell do I gotta apologize to _him_ for?” Meg looked peevishly at him, her eyes flat and unimpressed by his temper. Arthur smirked as he made a point of looking elsewhere. 

 

“ _Because_ , you dragged him into your mess!” She snipped. Dylas ears flattened down, anger bristling inside him, just below the surface. These damned fools... What did they know about the situation anyway? He already knew he’d fucked up worse than anyone would have even believed possible. What was the point of making him march around at their behest to make apologies to people who didn’t _want_ his contrition, anyway?

 

“Well, forget it.” He growled, “Frey certainly doesn’t want to see my face right now. I sure as shit ain’t going _anywhere_ near Bado any time soon and Doug—“ He cut off, blushing. “W-well... Doug I talked with a bunch yesterday. He already knows everything.” 

 

“Yes, we assumed you’d take that stance,” Arthur mused, adjusting his glasses. “Which is why we will begin by visiting the clinic so Jones and Nancy properly understand that the injury you dealt princess Frey was accidental and that you are remorseful.” 

 

“Why are you doing this?” Dylas snarled. “I’m not some brat to be marched about sayin’ the things you tell me to say.” 

 

“I believe I already explained.” Arthur countered, allowing a little hardness in his smooth voice, now. “We are not permitting you to worsen your situation with your ineptitude. Selphia as a whole _will_ forgive you, Dylas. You needn’t regress to the state you were in when first you came to us.”

 

Dylas sighed loudly. 

 

“So why aren’t _you two_ furious with me, then?” 

 

“Oh, we are.” Meg snapped, glaring still more fiercely. “But it’s because we care about you, dummy. You are part of our family and we aren’t going to stand by and let you self-destruct.” 

 

“Tch.” Dylas snipped, averting his eyes and blushing once more. How was he supposed to react to such a volatile mixture of anger and affection, anyway? 

 

“To speak plainly,” Arthur added, “Your recent behavior is an embarrassment at best and catastrophic at worst. Contrition is the only means you have at rousing the sympathy of the townsfolk in the immediate future.” 

 

“I don’t want sympathy...” Dylas returned, low, “I deserve all their ire.” 

 

Meg rolled her eyes in an exaggerated fashion. 

 

“And _that_ kind of thing is why we can’t leave you to your own devices. Now get a damned shirt on and come _on!”_ She demanded. Dylas blanched. It was so rare to hear Meg cursing; that more than anything had finally cowed him. She blushed, but continued to glare resolutely at him. Arthur smirked again. 

 

“You may as well surrender now. We will not bend before any tantrums.” 

 

“Fine. Let’s just get it over with, then.” Dylas sighed, pulling on a shirt. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Thanks for reading this week’s chapter!  
> Everybody is regrouping after all the chaos of the previous day but how will this day go over? Doug is about to confront Bado and Frey and Dylas are both headed to the clinic! The secondhand stress I’m getting for these characters is real haha! 
> 
> I’m changing the naming scheme for part 2. The format I used of ‘The [Noun]’ has grown a bit stale for me, so I’ll be renaming the last few chapters since Part 2 began to make things consistent. Then Part 3 will have its own naming scheme as well. 
> 
> Writing Doug and Dylas in this fic has been super fun but also pretty challenging for me! If you have some thoughts on the D/D dynamic and what you’d like to see, please let me know in the comments! I’m curious to hear your take on these two. 
> 
> Thanks everyone, and have a great week until the next update!


	25. Encounter

Frey clamped her mouth shut over all the protestations that came to mind as Jones carefully examined her, combing over every inch of her skull, shining bright lights into her eyes, peering into her ears and mouth. Gods, it felt unnecessary. She wasn’t at all sure whether the doctor felt it would do some good or if he were just putting her through the tedium to drive home the point that she should stay out of harm’s way. 

 

As always, she filed that idea under ‘nice advice, but not relevant in this case’. After all, the alternative to stopping that scene was too awful to imagine. She shivered at the thought. 

 

At last Jones ceased his poking, prodding and inspecting and sat back on his wheeled stool. 

 

“You are incredibly fortunate.” He said, eyeing her. She nodded. She knew. Of course she knew that. “There are no guarantees in life. So, instead of warning you what could happen next time, I advise you to make sure there isn’t a next time for this sort of thing.” His voice was stern, but she knew the man well enough by now to know he spoke from concern, not actual reprimand. 

 

“I’m going to continue to protect the people who are important to me.” Frey said with resolve, “But I’ll do better next time about how I protect them.”

 

“A good start.” Jones agreed, nodding, his brow still furrowed. “Remember, you can’t protect anyone if you die, Frey.” 

 

“I have no wish to die, Dr. Jones.” She smiled.

 

“Sometimes the risks you take make me wonder—“ The doctor cut off mid sentence as the door to the clinic swung open. Frey followed his gaze as Jones turned to see who had come and froze. Her blood seemed to stop in her veins. Time froze for one moment and her eyes widened as they fell upon Dylas entering the small building, followed by Meg and Arthur just behind him. 

 

“Hey, Dr. Jones I just came to—“ Dylas froze too, staring at Frey as if he’d spotted a silver wolf about to pounce. 

 

She hadn’t given this moment any thought yet. She should have, but she hadn’t. Silently, Frey scolded herself in her mind. Dylas still lived in the same small town. Obviously she’d run into him again and soon. Why hadn’t she planned what to say to him? Her head swam with the sudden rush of mixed emotions that overcame her as she saw the man who until recently had been her lover. 

 

Anger... simmering with unrealized indignation. Amid a vague sense of betrayal and sorrow and guilt, most of what she could grab hold of in that maelstrom of unprocessed feelings was anger. It held her firm before the half-monster. 

 

“Frey, I—I...“ Dylas stammered, losing his words almost immediately. “I, um...”

 

The princess held up a forestalling hand, venom on her tongue. She bit her lip to keep from loosing it on him. Dylas paused, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world right about now. Swallowing to buy herself time to think, Frey strung her words together, focusing on the one part of her feelings that mattered most in the short term. 

 

“I’m not ready to talk to you about what’s happened. But, there is one thing I need to tell you now.” She said, bracing her voice to sound firm, unmovable. Dylas nodded slightly, eyes wide. Frey drew in a big breath. “If you ever try to hurt him again...” Her eyes flashed with anger as she held out a hand to one side and flared her rune energy. Flame burst to life around her outstretched arm, drawing cries of exclamation from Nancy, Jones, and Meg. The suddenly heated air swirled about them, stirring Frey’s hair and making everyone else flinch. “I will do more than take the hit next time.” She vowed, glaring into Dylas’ golden eyes. 

 

The half-monster swallowed, nodded once, and lowered his gaze to the floor, his bestial ears flattened down against his head. 

 

“Glad you understand.” Frey growled, extinguishing the magical flame and striding toward the exit. Dylas, Arthur, and Meg hopped out of her path. She spared not a glance toward her ex-boyfriend, storming out of the building and leaving only a shocked silence in her wake. 

 

As she rounded the corner at the end of the street, she sighed out her tension and finally let her fists unclench. Her hands rose up before her eyes, trembling.

 

‘I can’t believe I just did that.’ She thought, swallowing hard. It had been a split-second decision. On the verge of panic, she’d wanted only to escape the situation. Of course she had no wish to harm Dylas, but she had to convince him to leave her new lover alone. Silently she hoped her impulsive plan would bear fruit. All of Selphia knew she was a force to be reckoned with. She’d singlehandedly toppled an empire to protect her friends and the town that had adopted her when she’d fallen into their midst with no memory. Never before had she so much as implied that her power would ever be aimed at any of them. Maybe she’d just made a grave mistake, crossing a bridge she couldn’t return from. But, if her unusual aggression could preserve Bado’s sanity or even his life as well as Dylas’... well, it was worth it. She would do whatever it took to keep them all safe. 

 

Selphia’s princess turned on wobbly legs and began to walk home to mull things over in the peaceful privacy of her fiends and barns. She had to start working through her feelings regarding Dylas so she could someday make peace with the man. 

 

“I can’t spend the rest of my life here avoiding him, after all.” She sighed as the thought formed, knowing she had her work cut out for her. 

 

At least now she could be relatively sure her present and past loves were not at risk to end one another. 

 

* * * * * 

 

Ventuswill, Divine Dragon, Ruler of the Abyss of Time, God and protector of Selphia sighed fretfully in her audience chamber. Her long serpentine tail swished behind her like that of a cat being taunted by a bird outside the window.

 

She’d made a mistake. Her! In her concern for Frey, Dylas, and Bado himself, she’d accidentally unraveled her old friend even further than recent events had already done to him! She hated to be wrong, hated to feel the shame of a misdeed weighing on her feathered shoulders. The writhing, seething regret and embarrassment wasn’t likely to abate until she addressed the problem directly, so with a growling huff, she narrowed her eyes and concentrated on an unusual presence among the mortals she presided over in this small town. 

 

“Pico... come here. I need your assistance.” The dragon thought firmly. 

 

Three heartbeats later, a puff of purple smoke detonated in front of the dais on which she sat and the diminutive ghost twirled on a tiptoe before her, fanning her hands out and shouting ‘Tadah!’ in a shrill, mischievous tone. 

 

Venti snorted, rolling her inhuman eyes and lowering her head to speak more confidentially with the little poltergeist. 

 

“Pico... I have a favor to ask of you.” She began. The little ghostly woman wagged a finger at the enormous dragon god before her. 

 

“Not so fast, Ven! I have news for you, first!” 

 

Ventuswill reared back, her plumes flattening in irritation. Impudent little—

 

“Your little princess just bared her fangs!” Pico jeered, pulling her lips back with two hooked fingers and gnashing her teeth. 

 

“Pardon?” Ventuswill snorted.

 

“Frey! She just ran into Dylas at the clinic and scared everyone half to death.” Pico elaborated gleefully with a wicked giggle. 

 

“How? Why?” Venti demanded. 

 

“She started a fairy fire around her arm.” Pico explained, “Told Dylas next time he came after Bado she’d fight back.” 

 

Venti furrowed her brow as she digested the rest of the ghost’s explanation. So, Frey had menaced her former lover to protect her new one. 

 

“I need to find away to diffuse this situation before any further violence happens.” She rumbled anxiously. 

 

“Nah, I think it’s over.” Pico said, waving an ethereal hand dismissively.

 

“Oh?” The dragon intoned with interest at the ghost. 

 

“Yeah. I been followin’ Dylas around for a bit and it seems like he ain’t all that attached to her anymore. I don’t think he’s gonna try and fight Bado again.” 

 

“No longer attached?” 

 

“Yeah. He told me and Doug he’s got no claim to her affection anymore and that if she’d risk her life to protect Bado, then he figures the guy has earned her love.” 

 

“I see...” 

 

“Plus, I think horse boy’s got someone new to focus on now. The guy’s sure focused on him after all.” 

 

“What? Who?” Venti demanded. Pico giggled. 

 

“What, you couldn’t tell already by how much they fight?” The dragon looked blankly at the poltergeist, drawing another giggle from the strange little woman. “The other dwarf! Doug!” She squealed. 

 

“D-doug? You think Dylas is in love with Doug?” Venti spluttered. 

 

“Well, no not yet, silly! Doug’s sure in love with him already but I don’t think that dense fool has figured it out yet.”

 

“But what makes you so sure he will be in love with Doug?” 

 

“Eeeehhhhh, call it a centuries-old intuition. I been watchin’ people in this town for a long time. Had to do somethin’ while I was waiting for Dolly to wake up, ya know? You mark my words: before too long, those two will be using their lips for more than bickering!” She winked up at the dragon, a wicked grin spreading across her face. Venti blinked, eyes widening. 

 

“I... suppose I’ll trust your hunch, for now.” She said slowly. Pico nodded approvingly. 

 

“Smart move, Ven. Now, what the heck did you call me here for, anyway?” The big dragon shook herself out of a sudden stream of thoughts the little ghost’s account had sparked into motion. 

 

“Ah, yes... It is a simple errand. I just need you to bring Bado to me.” 

 

Pico cocked her head, fretting her brow and frowning up at the town’s God.

 

“The heck do you need me to do that for. Why not send your big ol’ butler man after the dwarf?” She demanded. Venti squirmed, feathers rustling and tail swishing anxiously.

 

“I... I am a bit embarrassed. I put my proverbial foot in my mouth and now I need to give an apology.” She explained, hunkering down and speaking more quietly. The poltergeist rolled her eyes. 

 

“You can’t even flub up in front of your servants?” She jeered. “You may be a god but you ain’t perfect. They already know that, you know.” Venti snorted. 

 

“Are you going to fetch him or not.” 

 

“Fine.” Pico sighed, shrugging, “But I’m just saying this is all pretty silly. You shouldn’t worry so much, Ven.” With that, she spun about and vanished into thin air. 

 

“I can’t help but worry... what will they do when I am gone? I just want to be assured I will leave them with the seeds to prosper... and at the least do no damage to them in my final months...” 

 

* * * * * 

 

Bado drummed his thick fingers on the countertop, sighing in his characteristically empty shop. Ventuswill’s words continued to torment him, spinning around and around in his fatigue-addled brain. 

 

He wasn’t Dylas, which meant he wasn’t the man who had—if only out of sheer stupidity and recklessness—abused and tormented Frey, but it also meant he wasn’t the man Ventuswill had planned for her Princess’ suitor. He’d known it from the beginning of course, that he’d never been good enough for the savior of Selphia and her god, but now with a painful reminder bouncing back and forth between his pointed ears, questions he’d thought he laid to rest were coming back to haunt him. 

 

“What makes you think you have a right to be with her, even if she wants you? You’re standing in the place someone else should be, taking up her attention like you deserve it... She deserves better than a broken old warhorse who can’t leave the battlefield behind. The longer you’re here distracting her, the longer she has to wait for her real Prince Charming...”

 

Frown lines creased the blacksmith’s brow, the corners of his mouth turned downward in his anxiety. Thus, his expression was already stormy even before Selphia’s one other dwarf barged in the front door, looking like he was here to give the older man another verbal beat-down on top of the one he’d just received from the Native Dragon. Bado rose slowly from his chair and squared up for the encounter.

 

The redhead strode up to the counter with forced bravado. Bado could see the slightly too-wide eyes flashing metallically at him, the subtle trembling in the younger man’s limbs. He sighed heavily as Doug opened his mouth and spoke before the boy had the opportunity to voice whatever was on his mind. 

 

“What is it, Doug? You come here to bust my chops, too?” Bado asked tiredly. The redheads dwarf blinked up at the tall man in surprise. 

 

“I...” He began, but trailed off, eyeing Bado’s wilted appearance warily. Bado raised his eyebrows at the younger man, waiting. “I came to strike a deal...” He said slowly. Bado’s mind shifted a little, the ineffectual salesman notorious around Selphia reappearing for the first time since all the recent dramatics began. 

 

“Deal? You’re not usually one for bargaining, but I do have a lot of unique items for sale...” He folded his thick arms across his chest and tugged the point of his beard as he looked appraisingly at the other man. 

 

“What? No, you—“ Doug growled in frustration and re-composed himself quickly, putting that stern yet unimpressive air on his features. “Not that kind of deal, man.” Bado frowned. 

 

“Hmph. Well, that’s disappointing.” He grumbled, flopping down into his plain wooden chair and putting his feet up carelessly on the edge of the counter. 

 

“I want you to leave Dylas alone.” Doug said seriously, glaring at Bado, even as his clenched fists trembled. Bado’s metallic blue-gray eyes flashed at the smaller man, then he looked away, a faint expression of disgust on his lined face. “And whatever you want in retu—“

 

“Done.” Bado said shortly, glancing at Doug’s startled expression again briefly, his temper growing stormer by the moment. The half-monster who had been his girlfriend’s lover was the very last thing he wanted to talk about just at present. 

 

“You— what?” Doug sputtered.

 

“Done. I never wanted a piece o’ him t’begin with.” Bado said, waving a hand dismissively. 

 

Doug stared at him as if he wasn’t at all sure they were having the same conversation. 

 

“Before you seemed pretty intent on removing his limbs for him or something...” the redhead ventured after a long hesitation. 

 

Bado sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his eyes.

 

“Look, I was upset. He’d just clobbered Frey an’ I been a bit stressed lately. I don’t want to hurt Dylas, no matter what it looked like right then. You don’t need to come begging or bribing me. I just want to be as far from that guy as possible for two people who live in the same damned town.”

 

“O-oh.” Doug mumbled, eyes wide as he stared at the blacksmith. “Um... good. Alright, then.” A long, awkward silence settled between them. Eventually Bado sighed quietly through his nose and asked as calmly and non-threateningly as he knew how: 

 

“Was there somethin’ else?”

 

“No...” Doug said, blinking thoughtfully at the older man, “just... are you... okay?” Bado’s expression flickered momentarily. Was the smaller dwarf actually concerned about him? He wasn’t sure what to do with that concern. 

 

“No.” He murmured gruffly, then softened, “But it ain’t anything you can help with. Just... Just go help your friend. He could probably use some company right now.” He looked away, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. 

 

“Alright... um... thanks.” Doug replied uncertainly, and turned to go. As the shop’s bell announced the other dwarf’s departure, Bado drooped onto the countertop on his elbows, his big hands ruffling his hair as he dropped his head into them. 

 

What the hell was he to these people? One slip up and suddenly he was a monster they all had to be wary of, a devil to be bargained with, a threat... 

 

First Ventuswill and now Doug. Dylas was the one who had attacked his fellow Selphians and nearly killed their princess, yet Bado was the one everyone was afraid of. But, even in the face of that injustice, he couldn’t blame them. He knew how dangerous he’d been back then... 

 

“Hey. Quit your moping for a sec, will ya?” A petulant-sounding voice suddenly intruded on his troubled thoughts. Bado’s head snapped up and he stared dumbfounded into the acid-green eyes of Dolce’s weird little ghost friend. 

 

“Pico?” He rasped incredulously. What else was this day going to throw at him?

 

“Yeah, me!” The strange little ghost woman shrilled. “Get up off your butt, dwarf! I been ordered to fetch you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wheels are turning! Now that Venti knows of the potential romance between Doug and Dylas, will she be too tempted to play matchmaker to stay out of it?? And how will her apology to Bado go over? Will that poor man FINALLY get to relax a bit? 
> 
> I hope this very long fic is still feeling fresh and fun to you guys! I’m still enjoying writing it! 
> 
> I do have a little announcement, though: I’ll be pausing updates for the rest of October to deal with some IRL things and build up my backlog again so editing/managing the various threads of the story is easier. Look for a new update the first Sunday in November! Thanks for your patience!


	26. Deals with Mortals

  Bado’s anxiety squirmed within him like a trapped stoat. He set his jaw as he followed the small, mischievous ghost that always accompanied Dolce toward Selphia’s castle. Despite the fact he lived just a few blocks from the damned thing, the former knight typically managed to avoid the towering, regal edifice. Until recently, that is. More and more he was finding himself frequenting the palace with its insidious knack for reminding him of years long past. What was more, he was required to have an audience with Ventuswill the Divine Wind for the second time today! The blacksmith growled a frustrated curse under his breath.

 

“I’m gonna tell her you said that.” Pico chimed happily. Bado glanced, startled at the little poltergeist, then looked away with a small ‘tch’. Should have known she’d be able to hear him. He already knew she’d rat him out at the drop of a hat. 

 

“She already roasted me once today. You’d think a guy could just go lick his wounds in peace but nah...” He grumbled. 

 

“You might be surprised if that’s all your expecting.” Pico offered brightly. Bado eyed her suspiciously. He had no reason to expect the ghost to look out for him when she could instead play tricks for her own amusement. He said nothing more as they passed through the great front gate and into the castle proper. Ventuswill’s audience chamber was the very first room one encountered when entering through the big southern gate.  

 

Bado’s shoulders rounded as the towering silhouette of the Native Dragon loomed over the blacksmith, casting his substantial person into shadow. He must look like a man bracing to be struck... actually, he _was_. A wince crept into his expression but he kept his eyes cast downward, not meeting the large, glossy eyes of the dragon. Pico flitted forward, bowed extravagantly to Ventuswill, and chimed in her typical trickster’s tone: 

 

“I brought you your plaything, m’lady! Try not to rough him up too much; his sort are a bit thin on the ground these days.” She added, hooking a thumb over her shoulder at Bado as she spoke. She twirled in place and vanished in a puff of lavender smoke. 

 

“Impudent little spirit.” Ventuswill grumbled. She sighed, and lowered her huge head on her long serpentine neck until she was poised just before the blacksmith. Bado continued to observe the stone floor, saying nothing. The enormous creature spoke soft and gently, truly a feat for something her size. “She was only joking, old friend. I did not bring you here for my amusement or to chastise you.” Bado waited, unsure and unconvinced. After all, just that morning she’d certainly chastised him plenty.

 

A long silence stretched out between them in the towering audience chamber. The dragon’s breath stirred Bado’s hair but he refused to move. Finally, Ventuswill sighed once more and spoke without his acknowledgement:

 

“I wish to offer my apology, Bado Dramhau. Will you not attend me?” 

 

Bado’s eyes widened and his head snapped upward, gaze finding the dragon’s in an instant. He still offered no words, but his bent-brow expression expressed his confusion regardless. 

 

“When last we spoke, I was... my mind was focused on someone who was elsewhere.” She said slowly, reluctantly, “And because of that I sorely neglected the feelings of the man I was actually speaking to. I fear I have even done you great harm because of my carelessness. I wish to undo that transgression.” 

 

“Undo... what, exactly?” He said finally, his voice calm but wary nonetheless. 

 

“I believe I have impacted your confidence with my careless words. If you will allow me I’d like to retract what I said to you before.” 

 

Bado raised his eyebrows, looking surprised at Selphia’s God so humbled as to offer contrition _him_. She tolerated his silent look and continued: 

 

“I already know you would never raise a finger with a will to harm our dear princess Frey.” She began seriously, “And though I’ll admit your courtship with her is a rather unexpected turn of events—and one I am still adjusting to— I have great faith that you will treat her with the utmost care and respect granted from one to his lover. You have already given her the support she needed when I failed to realize she was suffering. I am truly grateful.” 

 

He blinked at her, plain surprise written across his tired features. 

 

“I give you my blessing for your courtship and ask that you do what you can to love and support one another. It is all that I wish of you both... to be happy.” 

 

“I... um... thanks.” He fumbled, face burning suddenly. Why in all of Norad was he more flustered in the face of her apology than the verbal flaying he’d received earlier that day? Or perhaps it was the other bit: official permission from Selphia’s _God_ to court her princess? How had _he_ of all people found himself in this moment? But... what she’d said... at least she didn’t really think he’d ever hurt Frey. Still...

 

Bado’s expression collapsed into a fretful mask once more. The huge dragon before him mirrored his expression on her uncanny reptilian features. 

 

“I really appreciate your support, Lady Ventuswill... I do.” He stalled, drawing in a deep breath, brows tented above his tired eyes. 

 

“...but?” The dragon offered gently.

 

“But you were right to call me out on letting my demons out... and even though I’d never in a million years try to hurt her... if I ever lost control completely...” He trailed off, feeling the blood drain from his face. The big man swayed on his feet, fear gripping him by the heart. Finally he looked up into Ventuswill’s dark eyes. “Even with your permission and your faith... how can I truly be her lover while I still have this haunting me? I _can’t_ let my guard down... not ever. I won’t risk it. But that ain’t fair to her, either. She should have someone _whole_...” His desperate gaze searched the dragon’s expression even as her plumes drooped, hoping she could somehow undo his worries, knowing there was in fact nothing she could say that would convince him. 

 

“My friend...” Ventuswill began, voice pained, “Even those who are ‘whole’ as you put it... they do not stay that way. Grief and pain find us all in the end. But, it is wrong to think it makes you unworthy.” 

 

The blacksmith turned his head away, clenching his teeth and fists. 

 

“I... am sadly ill-equipped to guide you in this matter.” She admitted ruefully, “As I myself have great difficulty letting go of guilt and pain. However... I do have a suggestion for you.” He reluctantly met her gaze, waiting for elaboration. 

 

“Which is?” 

 

“I advise you to speak to someone here in Selphia about your concerns. It may seem an strange suggestion, but he will surprise you, I think.” 

 

“Who?” 

 

“Porcoline De Sainte Coquille.” She said seriously. Bado’s mouth opened in surprise, brow furrowing down over his blue-gray eyes. 

 

“Por...co?” He echoed in disbelief. The dragon nodded. She wasn’t kidding! How on earth could that ridiculous man help him with _this_? Issues of such gravity seemed to belong to a different planet than the portly chef. 

 

“As I said, It may seem a bizarre suggestion, but I ask that you trust me. Have I not come to your aid before, when you needed it most?” She was, of course, referring to _that_ time... back when he’d all but vanished into his darkness. At Tristan’s behest, Ventuswill had accepted the haunted, scarred young man with the fearsome air about him as her Dragon Knight. And when he continued to fade until he was all but unresponsive, she’d cast him out of the knighthood completely. A dishonorable dismissal for a knight, but a blessing that had saved him from self-destruction. She placed him in her town, under her protection, close by his friend and mentor. His dismissal and close association with Tristan’s family—watching Kiel and Forte grow and thrive in this peaceful place... He’d been given another chance to _live_ in the true sense. And he owed it to this creature before him. One who had cut him deeply not hours ago... but how could he hold that against her now? He’d never been one for grudges... ‘too much work’ he always said, but it was more than that, of course. Now Ventuswill was endorsing his courtship to Frey and doing her best to soothe his worried soul. There was only one right response and even the parts of him that feared the worst knew it. 

 

“I... don’t understand.” He said slowly, “But I’ll give it a shot. I trust you.” 

 

“Good. Thank you, old friend.” She nodded her great head. “It would be a great boon to me if I could be assured of your prosperity after I am no longer here to guide you.” Bado felt his back stiffen. His eyes flashed as he opened his mouth: 

 

“There you go again.” He said, voice suddenly hard. “When are you gonna come clean? Somethin’s up with your health again, isn’t it?” Ventuswill blinked rapidly, plumes and frill flattening down against her neck. 

 

“I-I told you and Frey already. I do not _know_  what is going on with me yet.” She insisted, clearly ruffled. 

 

“ _Nothing_? You sure? Cause you keep sounding like you’re sure it won’t be long...” He left the ominous thought hanging in the air, glaring sternly at her. His concern, not just for Ventuswill herself but also for Frey, was easier to hold than his other fears or her reassurances. The big dragon sighed shortly.

 

“I don’t _know_ why, or how quickly it will progress. I only know I am somehow waning. My reserves of rune energy are being drained.” 

 

“Has it _been_ progressing rapidly, then?” He pried. She winced her great serpentine head backward with a grimace at his direct demand for information, but nodded reluctantly. 

 

“Yes...” 

 

“How much have you lost?” 

 

“It is hard to say... Perhaps sixty or seventy percent of my capacity since my... resurrection.” She explained quietly. “Recently it seems to be accelerating.” 

 

“Okay.” He nodded, “Who do we ask for answers?” 

 

“Excuse me?” 

 

“Who would be likely to know what is happening to you? Someone familiar with the old lore and the ways of the Native Dragons?” Bado said reasonably, gesturing expectantly. 

 

“What are you suggesting?” Ventuswill countered warily.

 

“That we need to figure this out so we can find a solution.”

 

“Solution?” 

 

“Yeah. You’re not just going to roll over and die, are you?” He said dryly, then added in a more serious tone: “You’ve seen what that does to the ones that are left behind...” 

 

A growl rumbled in the dragon’s barrel chest; it became a snort that huffed forth from her flared nostrils and she twitched her head away with a frustrated air. 

 

“I assure you I am _acutely_ aware. I’m not exactly looking forward to dying but I _cannot_ live up to everyone’s expectation that I should go on living for all eternity, either!” 

 

“So...” 

 

“So _what?_ ” She snapped.

 

“Who do we contact?” He said levelly. He had no plans to let the dragon off easily, even if she was a god. Ventuswill sighed a long breath out in surrender. 

 

“I suppose Barrett might be able to dig up some kind of information...” She grumbled. “He has a lot of contacts acquired through his research.” 

 

“Great.” Bado nodded. “So next time he comes to town you’ll ask him?” 

 

“You do not seem to understand what a world of trouble it’s going to cause me if everyone knows about this.” She whined. 

 

“It ain’t that I don’t understand,” he said with a wicked grin, “I just don’t care.” Ventuswill gave another snorting growl of indignation. Bado stood fast in the face of her irritation, jabbing a finger in her direction as he explained, “A little trouble now will be well worth your health, ma’am. You don’t get to quietly wait until it’s too late just to save face.” 

 

“Well at _least_ you’re looking a bit more lively now that you’ve resolved to pay me back for my scolding.” The dragon complained, tail swishing behind her. Bado nodded. 

 

“I’ll make you a deal, Lady Ventuswill,” He offered, “I’ll do everything possible to sort out my demons—yes, even talk to Porco about it— if you do the same regarding your health.” 

 

“ _I_ am a millenia-old, all-powerful, all-but immortal being! I do not need to _make deals_ with a conman such as yourself.” She huffed. Bado folded his arms and raised his eyebrows as he looked up at her. 

 

“Oh? So does that mean I need to get Frey involved? To put the real pressure on you?” The big dragon gave an anxious squawk of protest. 

 

“You wouldn’t dare!” 

 

“I _would_ if it meant sparing her grief in future.” He said seriously. 

 

“This is no _deal_ , it’s extortion!” She protested. Bado shrugged.

 

“Call it what you will. Either way, I’ll be checking in on this whole thing _very_ soon.” 

 

“It’s not too late for me to retract my blessing on your courtship, you know.” The dragon seethed, narrowing her glossy eyes at him. 

 

“But you won’t.” He smirked. Too well did he know her benevolent nature. She’d never wield his lover against him like that. The dragon gave a growling, grumbling sigh of assent, then settled down with an indignant air into a sphinx-like posture on her great stone dais. 

 

“Fine. You had better hold to your end of the bargain, though. I’ll not hear of you giving up on Frey just because of a few skeletons in your closet.” 

 

“I ain’t got any intention of leaving her. You don’t gotta worry about that.” He assured, “I just need to figure out how to fix my issues so I can _maybe_ be worthy of her, someday.” 

 

“You are worthy if _she_ says you are.” The dragon said quietly. The lines around Bado’s mouth tightened but he said nothing. He could not refute it, yet how could that be true? Beautiful, compassionate, loving Frey deserved the very _best_ suitor imaginable. His task—to become that man—was impossible, and yet he _had_ to try. Until such a day as when she decided to withdraw from this relationship he owed it to her to give it everything he had, even if he _was_ broken. 

 

 “I will be...” he murmured, eyes distant. Somehow... somehow he was going to fix this. Ventuswill sighed softly. 

 

“One more piece of advice for today: you should go see her.” She said gently. Bado blinked up at her. “You two need each other. You’re both raw from the recent events... in need of comfort. Go. Give that to her and accept it when she returns the favor.” He blinked once or twice, then allowed a slight smile to tug on his lips. 

 

“I’ll give it my all.” He said, nodding. 

 

“Good.” The dragon mimicked his nod, then tossed her head toward the northerly doorway behind her. “She’s out back. Go on, then.” 

 

“Oh. You mean like, _now...”_ He said with an embarrassed chuckle.

 

“Yes, now!” She said, extending a magnificent wing and batting at his huge person until he stumbled toward the doorway. 

 

“Alright, alright! I’m goin’!” He laughed, striding through the gateway and into the farmlands beyond it. 

 

* * * * * 

 

Frey poured herself into the physical labor of farming, panting, sweating, and striving without hesitation. This work gave her anxiety a place to discharge, the nervous energy channeled into productive effort. She harvested, plowed, planted, and pruned, gradually becoming encrusted with dirt and sweat. The comfortable weariness in her muscles was a stark improvement to her earlier tension, however, and her panting, puffing breath in the almost-freezing air felt almost rewarding to her own ears. All the golden vegetable seeds—Venti’s favorite—had been sewn in neat rows, with hot-hot fruits in between. Winter farming was a feat only an earthmate would attempt. But she _was_ an earthmate and she would see a spectacular harvest at the end of this frigid season. The princess stood up and stretched her arms high with a tremendous yawn. It was time to wind down from all the work and take a bath. 

 

The ‘crunch crunch crunch’ of footsteps on the dry, cold soil of the paths between fields suddenly drew her attention. She spun around in place and a surprised smile spread across her dust-coated face. 

 

“Bado!” She chimed, trotting tiredly over to her lover as he raised a hand in greeting. As she reached him, her head barely reaching his sternum, she threw her arms around his barrel chest and squeezed with all the effort her sore limbs could muster. He gave a chuckle and returned the hug, albeit more gently. 

 

“Hey there, Fireflower.” Came his deep, rich voice cutting through the frosty air about them. “Sorry for runnin’ off this morning.” 

 

“S’okay.” She murmured into his coat, not yet releasing him. 

 

“Would you, uh... would ya like t’spend some time together? Now?” He offered hesitantly. She loosened her grip and leaned back, smiling up at him. She nodded. His own smile beamed down at her. 

 

“Did venti say sorry?” She asked. He blinked. 

 

“Did _you_ chew her out?” He asked. She nodded. “Heh. Well that explains it.” He said, smirking. 

 

“Are you feeling better?” She asked softly. He raised a big, squarish hand to her cheek, gently brushing her bangs out of her eyes. 

 

“I am _now_.” He hummed. She gave a pleased little giggle. 

 

“Oh!” Frey suddenly released him and jumped back , covering her mouth and blushing. “I’m sorry! I got dirt on you!” The big blacksmith looked down in surprise and saw the dust and soil she’d transferred onto his clothes as she embraced him. He simply laughed, swatting at his clothing with a casual hand. 

 

“Oh, that ain’t nothin.” He said gently, “Just a different color, really. Usually it’s soot and ash from the forge.” She continued to fret, looking up at him with a worried expression. “Buuut, if you like we could... I dunno, go over to the baths?” He offered, smiling. She brightened. 

 

“Yes, please!” She chirped. “Just a moment. I’ll grab my things and then we can walk by your place before we go to the bathhouse.” She dashed off into the castle and hastily snatched up her bathing basket and a set of clothing to change into. Before he could have counted the rows in her center field she was back, panting breathlessly and beaming at him. She held up her things to show him she was ready and they turned to go, walking close enough beside one another that their arms brushed one another as they strode along. 

 

“Ssooo, what did she say to you, anyway?” Frey asked as they passed through the North entrance to the fields and came out on airship way. She stared up at him, watching for his reaction. He probably wouldn’t tell her all of it. It wasn’t his habit to recount a conversation exactly, so she’d have to do some interpreting based on his other signals. He glanced down at her, something uncertain in his posture. 

 

“Ya mean, like... before I left this morning, or just now?” 

 

“Both.” 

 

“Ah, well... uh...” He rubbed at the back of his neck, looking forward instead of at her now. Butterflies started up in Frey’s stomach. He probably just didn’t want to embarrass Venti by repeating it all. But, if she were completely honest with herself his hesitance made her nervous. “She just... wanted to make sure you’re safe an’ all...” Frey’s eyebrows shot up. 

 

“Why wouldn’t I be? And why would that make you feel like you had to leave this morning?” 

 

“Well... uh... how do I put this. I don’t s-suppose you saw or heard any of it cause you were knocked out an’ all, but... I might’a... kinda...” He trailed off, lips sealed, eyes troubled. 

 

“You didn’t try to fight him, did you?” She asked in a small voice. He gave her a pained glance. 

 

“Not exactly but... well, like I was telling ya before: I was... a pretty dangerous guy, back in the day. Obviously I ain’t out to clean anyone’s clock _now_ , but my body just _remembers_ how to fight like it’s me or the other guy, ya know? If I’m not in control of myself, someone could get hurt bad...” He trailed off, face a stern, worried mask. 

 

“I’m not afraid of you, no matter what you did before, Bado.” Frey said seriously, hoping he would believe the passion in her voice and eyes. 

 

“I appreciate your faith, little lady...” He said, glancing at her with still-furrowed brow, “But _I_ still have my concerns.” She tilted her head fretfully up at him. 

 

“Anyway...” He said, shifting his shoulders as if shaking something off. “Let’s get a move on, eh? That bath is sounding better by the minute.” 

 

She nodded, doing her best to tuck away her worries and dwell in the moment with him. Nevertheless, the worried lines in his forehead continued to tug at her thoughts with a nagging uncertainty. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaah! Back from my one-month hiatus to finish some outstanding projects that were on a tight timeline. Thanks so much for your patience and for coming back to read this new update! 
> 
> Someone has finally shown Bado some good support and WHEW that is a relief! Now he just needs to give HIMSELF a break, am I right?? 
> 
> But maybe Porcoline will be able to talk some sense into him? Seems doubtful since Porco is much more stacked in NONsense abilities but maybe Venti knows something we dont?
> 
> I’m going to try and run through and answer any and all comments I missed while on Hiatus, again please accept my apologies for the radio silence over the last month. I really really appreciate your comments and I love reading your thoughts on the story so please keep them coming whenever you feel inclined! 
> 
> Coming up in the next couple chapters we’ll have a little awkward bonding and flirting between two broody boys we all love as well as some slightly spicy Earathmate advances on our favorite oversized dwarf! I hope you’ll look forward to next week’s update as well!


	27. Gratitude

A lone, lean figure stood stiffly before the front door to Selphia’s one and only grocery. Dylas’ black bestial ears twitched anxiously, his long silvery blue tail swishing behind him. His sweating hands gripped white-knuckled around the ceramic cookware holding the product of his morning’s efforts. He swallowed hard and opened the door to the shop. 

 

It was early, not early by the standard of when _most_ people got up for the day, but early in terms of when a certain small, feisty dwarf rose from slumber. Dylas adjusted the container, still quite warm, across his forearms so his sleeves insulated his hands from the warmest parts. He looked about until his eyes found a short figure hefting some large bags of flour into place on a low shelf. Doug straightened up, barely covering a wide yawn as he stood, stretching. Dylas’ heart started thumping hard. Would the young dwarven man make fun of his gift? He wasn’t usually prone to sentimental gestures. The sense of vulnerability grated on his mind; his back itched as if he were about to be struck from behind.

 

“H-hey...” He rasped. Doug’s eyes snapped open and combed rapidly over Dylas’ person, a blush creeping into his cheeks. 

 

“ _Shit... he’s mad...”_ The thought came unbidden. 

 

“UM—I—Er, Here!” He thrust the cookware forward. Doug’s arms shot up to catch it, but Dylas suddenly shifted his weight, siezing the thing in his grip again before it tipped into Doug’s outstretched hands.  “Oh wait, it’s hot!” He blurted, snatching it back away from the shorter man. Doug nearly overbalanced as he wheeled backward to avoid touching the thing. They both blinked, wide-eyed at each other for a frozen moment before Doug’s face scrunched up in confusion. 

 

“But... _you’re_ already holding it! How hot could it be?” He asked, narrowing his eyes in confusion. 

 

“I—shaddup! I just—“ Dylas cut off, biting his lip and shaking his head. He drew in a deep breath and then blew it all the way out, just as Meg had told him the day before when he’d fretted about facing the townspeople after the incident two days prior. “S-sorry... I just... I brought this for you... to say thank you. The bottom is still a bit hot, but if you hold it by the sides you should be okay.” He held out the cookware and Doug gingerly accepted it. 

 

“What is it?” The redhead asked, eyes flicking down at the container and back up at Dylas’ face. Dylas felt a blush creep into his cheeks as he averted his amber eyes. 

 

“Um... it’s fried rice... with lots of eggs and seafood. I made it fresh just now.” 

 

“What? Really?” Doug’s eyes suddenly flashed reflectively as he lit up. Dylas blinked in surprise. 

 

“Y-yeah. You, uh... you helped me out a lot the other day. I’m not really sure what I would have done if you hadn’t been there, so... I dunno... just seemed like it should be something good if I was gonna make it to say thanks for that.” 

 

Doug stared at him, something thoughtful stirring behind those metallic silver irises. Dylas’ eyes darted back and forth, meeting them and then shifting all over the room in his nervousness. His tail lashed about behind him uncontrollably. A grin spread across Doug’s face. He looked down at the dish, apparently trying to suppress his expression just a little. 

 

“Well, thanks. And you’re welcome.” He said, the warmth in his voice making the half-monster’s insides squirm about.

 

“Sure. No problem.” Dylas mumbled hurriedly. He fidgeted with the buttons on his cuffs. “W-well, anyway... have a good day or whatever.”  He moved to leave, eager to get out of this weird exchange. Him and Doug? Not bickering? Trading ‘thank you‘s and being pleasant? It felt ridiculous. 

 

“You too, or whatever.” Doug replied, just a hint of mockery entering his voice as a wicked smirk tugged at once side of his mouth. Dylas’ face flushed and he frowned, tongue tangling up inside his mouth as he tried to formulate some kind of retort. 

 

“ _Forget it! Just get out while you can!”_ His inner voice hissed. He nodded awkwardly and strode hurriedly out of the shop, letting the breath he was holding out with a huff as the shop’s door closed behind him with the tinkling of a bell. 

 

“Well... that was awkward...” The once-guardian mumbled to himself, “But then again... it always is with me.” He frowned, shoulders drooping.

 

Ventuswill and Doug himself had talked about Dylas’ _next_ relationship as if it was a given... as if it were _obvious_ he would pair up with someone again. But, the only thing that seemed obvious to him was his own ineptitude when it came to people. What gave them those ideas about him, anyway? They were probably just being nice...

 

“ _Nice...”_  

 

Since when was his and Doug’s friendship—were they friends?—based on being _nice?_ Dylas’ ears flipped upward, flattened against his head, and rose halfway again. Confusion swirled about between those furry ears. He shook his head, thrusting his jaw out and walking down the street with what he hoped was a ‘don’t bother me’ look on his face. Sure, it wouldn’t help the townsfolk’s perception of him just now, but he was only going to make an ass of himself  if he opened his mouth at this moment while he was so jumbled up inside anyway, so... so be it, he thought.

 

The stupid blush in his cheeks persisted as he headed North, back to Porcoline’s restaurant. Doug had blushed too... What the hell did _that_ mean? The dwarf hadn’t seemed mad about the gift like he’d thought...

 

    Seeing those silvery eyes light up... he wouldn’t mind seeing that again. 

 

* * * * *

 

Doug stood stupidly smirking to himself in the midst of the shop. If a customer stepped into the place in the next moment, they would encounter what one could _only_ describe as some kind of addled idiot: grinning at nothing with a faraway stare, holding a container full of steaming fried rice and standing in the middle of a grocery store like he’d wandered in here without knowing which way was up. He shook himself, mouth working to try and tame his expression. The grin held out, dimpling his cheeks despite his efforts. He finally resolved to run upstairs and taste the dish. He’d have to trust to luck that no one would shoplift anything while he was out of the room. Placing the service bell up on the counter, he gave one last look around the shop before loping up the stairs clutching the cookware to his chest. 

 

Granny Blossom should still be down the street at the flower shop for a little while. When she got to talking with Illuminata about shop stuff, they could go on a good while. He set the dish down on the small dining table in Blossom’s apartment above the shop with a ‘clink’ and snatched the lid off. 

 

A plume of savory, fragrant steam billowed up into his face. The small man greedily breathed in the scent, humming with delighted anticipation. His hand moved as if to try and grab at the food and stopped, huffing a laugh at his own expense before he grabbed a fork from the little basket of place-setting things in the center of the table. A moment later he was scooping the first bite into his already salivating mouth. 

 

As the forkful of steaming rice vanished into Doug’s mouth he froze, eyes shut in a wince of pure pleasure. Warmth, golden with richness and savory, and robust with spice and herb flooded into him. The perfect, glowing taste and sensation made his knees weaken, and he hurriedly set down the lid of the cookware and braced the heel of one hand on the tabletop. 

 

What _was_ this? Was there some branch of magic reserved just for cooking or what? He swallowed, blinking. If Dylas’ gratitude was represented by this meal, he must be _very_ thankful indeed. Doug pulled up a chair and plopped down into it, shoveling another hefty bite into his mouth, determined to enjoy the treat while it was still hot and fresh, customers be damned. 

 

As he chewed, savoring every delicious morsel, he thought back to Dylas’ flustered attitude. It made sense, given the half-monster was completely unused to dealing in pleasantries or even giving gifts. Yet, the way he caught himself in his reflexive aggression and stopped his temper; the way he offered no challenge to Doug’s quip as he was turning to leave, only looking confused and embarrassed as he clamped his mouth shut and turned tail. Doug may not have known what exactly was going through Dylas’ head these days, but he _did_ know something was changing...

 

“ _Don’t get ahead of yourself.”_ His inner voice warned. “ _One thank-you gift does_ not _a love confession make.”_ Regardless of whether simple gratitude or something more had motivated the once-guardian, Doug could get used to this new dynamic. Receiving rice in stead of rancor was a marked improvement, after all...

 

Halfway to an empty bowl now, the short redhead wondered if this could be the first of many meals he might enjoy by the hand of the man he so admired. How to make that happen though...

 

He could simply wait; Dylas was not the type to go along with anything that was pushed on him so giving him space to come to it on his own might be the best way. But, no... Doug himself was no more patient than the former guardian. Besides... he’d tried doing nothing before and that had only landed Dylas in the lap of someone else. He had a second chance now to make a real try at courting the man.  There would be no squandering this opportunity now that Dylas and Frey were no longer together. 

 

Doug scrunched up his face, thinking hard over another bite of Dylas’ cooking. What had gotten him this far, anyway? Being there to listen and support Dylas... letting how much he cared about him show, at least enough that Dylas had taken him seriously instead of fighting or brushing him off. It had meant something too him, too. That was, after all, the reason for this gift. 

 

“ _That’s all well and good,”_ Doug thought, jaw working as his mind turned, “ _but in the meantime I need a reason to go see him and soon.”_ This momentum excited him. He wanted to keep it going, to see what Dylas’ next show of vulnerability would bring about. 

 

Well... He _could_ get Dylas something in return. It might have been a thank you gift already, but that didn’t mean Doug couldn’t give a gift of his own to reciprocate. Yeah... it would work. It made sense. It was the most natural thing in the world! And, it was also something you do for someone you like, rather than your bickering, combative rival.

 

Doug grinned to himself as he finished off the dish, pursuing the last grains of rice stuck to the cookware. It was a perfect strategy: simple, straightforward, achievable. He’d have the chance to talk to Dylas again, to show a little of his affection, and to reward Dylas for his own gesture today. If all went well, maybe the two of them could even spend some time together someday soon, without all the dramatic backdrop of recent events. 

 

The stupid smile persisted throughout Doug’s shift in the shop that afternoon. No one needed to know why. In the moments between serving customers he pondered what gift might be worthy of his crush. Frequent sighs crossed his lips, equal parts bliss and frustration, and his pointed ears glowed with a warm, pink tint to them. 

 

* * * * * 

 

“How did it go?” Arthur asked serenely as Dylas returned to Porcoline’s restaurant, passing through the office adjoined to the dining room where Arthur spent most of his time. 

 

“Fine.” Dylas grunted, walking briskly past the prince toward the stairs. 

 

“If you don’t mind—“ Arthur said crisply as Dylas moved to leave; the prince’s tone could _not_ be argued with, and Dylas found himself turning back toward the blonde figure despite his simple desire to be alone with his very confused thoughts just at present.

 

“Yeah, what?” He growled. Arthur blinked his dangerously cunning garnet colored eyes with a leisurely attitude even as his graceful hands reordered paperwork across the broad surface of his mahogany desk. Dylas swallowed. 

 

“I would like to speak to you further before you retire.” Arthur finished his sentence calmly, eyeing him with the confidence of an apex predator. Dylas shoved his hands in his pockets and turned on the spot, glowering at the prince and waiting. Arthur nodded gracefully, took a sip form a steaming cup of tea on his desk, then spoke again: 

 

“I have concerns that you are not properly appreciating that young man.” 

 

“I just made him lunch!” Dylas bit back, “What more do I gotta do?” 

 

“What more do you hope to have in life?” 

 

“What?” Dylas scrunched up his face in confusion. Did this royal fop have to be so damn cryptic all the time? 

 

“You reap what you sew, as they say.” Arthur explained calmly, “And you recently experienced what harvest awaits a selfish and inattentive farmer.” Dylas flinched, ears flattening down against his head, tail twitching behind him. 

 

“Yeah, I remember.” He grumbled.

 

“So, this time _do better_.” Arthur said deliberately, flashing those imposing eyes at Dylas as he emphasized the last two words. 

 

“Wha’d’ya mean ‘this time’?” He demanded, flushing red. He wasn’t _courting_ anyone! Could they just let him sort through the wreckage of his relationship in peace before they started foisting him on other poor unsuspecting souls? 

 

“ _Poor souls like that dwarf boy who cares so much about you?”_ A sly little voice whispered in his hear. He locked his jaw, not even hearing the prince’s next words as he wrestled with himself. The hell was that about, anyway? He wasn’t _wooing_ Doug! He just said ‘thank you’! That didn’t mean anything like—like... 

 

“ _You liked the way he smiled at you... you like his voice... his cute little ears, his shining, silver eyes...”_

 

 _“_ Shaddup!” Dylas hissed under his breath. 

 

“I beg your pardon?” Arthur countered dangerously. 

 

“No, n-not you. I just—I need some time to think, okay?” Dylas fumbled, shaking his head. Arthur sighed, not _quite_ rolling his eyes. 

 

“Very well. You do seem rather distracted. Just remember to come back and hear me out once you’ve taken some rest. I would not insist if I did not think it important.” 

 

“Sure, yeah.” Dylas agreed hurriedly, turning and dashing up the stairs, feet pounding against the wood, heart thumping in his chest. 

 

When the half-monster reached his room he ducked inside, snapping the door shut behind him and breathing hard. 

 

“ _Doug?”_ He demanded of himself. How could he be attracted to Doug? Ever since day one they’d been like oil and water. “ _Just like that? He tells you there’s hope for your clueless ass to have some kind of successful romance and now you think he wants you sniffing his tail?”_ He gritted his teeth. Everything with Frey still stung so sharply. He was more than likely just desperate to move past this, and Doug had been the person who’d been there for him during the worst of it. 

 

“ _Even if he_ were _interested in you that way...”_ Dylas thought irritably—Doug had told him he was already pining for someone, after all, “ _He doesn’t deserve to be grabbed at by a desperate fool coming out of a true catastrophe of a relationship.”_ Dylas forced his heavy breathing to calm, thinking with resolve. 

 

“ _I just need to stay away from him for a bit... clear my head. I can’t be looking at him that way. It isn’t fair to put that on him when he’s got his own crush to worry about.”_ He nodded, feeling a little calmer. Yeah... that was it. He’d just lay low and avoid the red-headed dwarf for a few days. Once his head had time to clear up, he’d be able to go back to normal without aiming any of his mixed-up feelings at him. That would be for the best. 

 

“ _It’ll be easy...”_ He thought, trying hard to reassure himself, _“I’ll just focus on work and go out to all the quieter fishing spots._ _Doug doesn’t even like fishing. There’s no way I’ll keep running into him.”_

 

It would work. It had to work. All he needed was a little time to himself and those silver eyes would surely stop shining at him in his memory...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I know y’all Doug/Dylas fans have been waiting so so patiently for some more romance between these two. I hope this chapter tickles your fancies! <3 Everyone in this fic is so freakin’ insecure hahahaha! Gosh, Dylas. Pay attention! There’s a REASON Doug has stuck to you like glue all this time! 
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments and what you hope for in the coming chapters. Thanks as always for reading!


	28. Good Counsel

Frey sighed aloud, drawing a chuckle from her huge butler as he arranged her long hair in the basin and turned on the tap. The princess pouted her lip a little, crossing her arms. Her indignant body language was somewhat undermined by her reposed posture as Volkanon began washing her hair. 

 

“What troubles you, miss Frey?” The big man asked in his deep voice. He’d been truly delighted at her recovery two days prior, relief putting a noticeable spring in his step. Clorica had explained privately that Volkanon had been thoroughly enraged at Dylas’ treatment of her on more than one occasion. Upon hearing the young man had struck her he’d been practically blind with rage; only a standing order from the Divine Wind herself had prevented him from charging out the front gate to find Dylas and pummel him. Frey had an inkling that the older gentleman wouldn’t  _ quite _ approve of Bado as her suitor either, but she certainly wasn’t above taking advantage of his current disposition in the hope he’d be more favorable to the idea of her and the blacksmith as a couple. 

 

“I’m worried about Bado.” She confided. 

 

“Hmm.” He rumbled, low in his throat, “Yes that one worries me often, albeit likely for different reasons than your own.” She gave a small snort at his quip. 

 

“I get it, he’s an oddball.” She conceded, “But I  _ really _ like him. He’s been there for me in ways no one else is.” 

 

“I did not mean to imply he is without merit.” Volkanon added, abashed, “Only that he has some rather  _ unconventional _ tendencies. But come, tell me what concerns you. I am of course your willing ears.” He massaged shampoo into her abundant locks, drawing small circles on her scalp. She let her eyes flutter closed and spoke confidentially to her companion: 

 

“I want to be with him. I’ve told him a dozen times already. But... even though he says he wants to be with me too, he’s hesitating. He’s always saying things like ‘It’s okay if this is just a rebound’ and ‘until you find someone better’ and stuff. I can’t seem to convince him he’s good enough, even though I chose him. I think he’s even afraid he’d hurt me somehow... because he used to be such an effective killer in the knighthood.” 

 

“His concerns are reasonable.” Volkanon said. Frey’s brows furrowed. She opened her mouth to object, but the butler was already speaking again: “I know it is difficult to imagine, but he was a very different man when he first came to Selphia.” 

 

“You knew him then?” 

 

“Yes. We have never been close friends, but I have known him quite a long time.” 

 

“What  _ was _ he like back then?” 

 

“Broken. Haunted. Fading.” Volkanon said gravely. “Tristan—Forte and Kiel’s father—brought him here from the front lines because he was concerned that Bado would choose to die on the battlefield rather than continue his existence as a soldier. He may have been a legendary fighter, but he suffered greatly in violent surroundings. At heart he is a gentle soul.” Frey swallowed, her throat feeling tight. 

 

“Do you really think he would have...” She said in a small voice. 

 

“I do not know.” Volkanon said reluctantly, “But Tristan was convinced that removing him from the war was the only way to save his life. Nancy treated him when he first arrived. He was covered in wounds and rarely spoke. I do not think I heard his voice for weeks after he arrived. Tristan had petitioned Lady Ventuswill to allow Bado to take up his own post as her Dragon Knight, which she had reserved for his retirement from active duty on the front lines so that he could dwell here with his family.” 

 

“He was Venti’s knight?” 

 

“For a time. But... the damage he suffered to his psyche while fighting at the front was too great. He rarely encountered conflict—the dragon knight is mostly a symbolic role, you see—but on the rare occasion he drew his sword he was transformed into a beast, ready to kill on reflex.”

 

“You saw this?” 

 

“Yes.” Volkanon confirmed reluctantly, “We never discussed it publicly at the time, but Lady Ventuswill had tasked me with subduing him should he ever lose control completely. His strength and skill are considerable, especially back then, but I am no amateur in a fight either.”

 

“You wouldn’t have really hurt him, would you, Volkanon?” 

 

“Yes. I would have. To protect the people of Selphia and to protect Bado from himself, I would do whatever was necessary.” Volkanon said with resolve as he rinsed the soap from Frey’s hair. 

 

“What do you mean to protect himself?” 

 

“I mean that any violence done to others would also greatly damage him. Preventing Bado from hurting people is protecting him from the sickness of the mind he was burdened with as a knight. His will to live wanes if he visits harm on others.” 

 

“I see...” Frey said quietly. 

 

 “It never became necessary for me to injure him, however. Once we faced off against one another after a bandit attacked him at the South Gate, but he snapped out of his trance as I shouted my challenge. The bandit lived, but he was severely injured. I do not think he was ever able to walk properly again.” Frey pressed her lips together. Everyone’s corroboration of Bado’s dark history left no room to deny it but still she could not imagine him in a bloodthirsty battle-rage. She could not imagine him as a killer. Volkanon continued as he rubbed a conditioner into her silky green hair. “It had been only a few months since his appointment, but Lady Ventuswill decided he should lay down his sword forever more if he was ever going to heal. She dismissed him.”

 

“Did he get better after that?” 

 

“Slowly, yes. I think it was his friendship to Lily that did the most for his recovery. She showed such compassion—and trust—to this man who had such a dark and fearsome air about him. She trusted her husband’s esteem for Bado and welcomed him into her family. He used to help her around the house and with Forte and Kiel when they were very young, particularly whenever Tristan was away.” 

 

“How old was he when he first came to Selphia?” 

 

“Early twenties, I believe. But, he joined the military very young. He’d already established his career as a knight by then. It was hard to remember how young he was at times. I believe his experiences aged him significantly.” 

 

“But you said he got better, right?” 

 

“Yes. Little by little his spirit recovered. His eyes stopped looking so hollow. He began to speak more, even joking from time to time. Tristan had insisted from the beginning that the man had a wily nature. But, we did not see the carefree Bado we know today for some years after he arrived. Wounds like his take a great deal of time to heal, and they inevitably leave deep scars. I believe his worries regarding your courtship are rooted in those scars.” 

 

“Well, yes. I agree. But what am I to do about it?” 

 

“I think you should consider his words carefully, miss Frey.” 

 

“You’re not going to tell me to break up with him, are you?” Frey asked warily. Volkanon nudged her into an upright position and began wrapping a clean towel about her long tail of wet hair. He frowned, sighing through his nose. 

 

“I will not pretend that I  _ fully  _ approve of him as a suitable candidate for your hand, princess.” He said ominously, “But no... against my first impressions, I believe I will not advise you to quit the attempt outright.” Frey blinked at that, turning to stare at the older man in amazement.

 

“Wow.” She said plainly. “I wasn’t expecting that.” 

 

“Yes I know.” He allowed, looking down with furrowed brow as he continued to dry her hair. “There was... he showed me a side of himself I am not accustomed to some days ago... the day he brought you home intoxicated.” 

 

“Ah...” Frey said softly, remembering the gentle, tender way Bado had spoken to her as she’d poured her heart out on the floor of his workshop. 

 

“At first I was ready to call him out and demand a duel for taking advantage of you,” The butler said, “But his obvious concern for you, the sorrow and anxiety in his eyes as he looked at your sleeping face... it could not belong to a man merely trying to gain something from a woman in distress.” He said, picking up an ornate comb and beginning to gently pull it through her freshly cleaned hair. Frey listened with rapt attention, soaking up every scrap of information he gave regarding her lover. “Plus, he brought you  _ home  _ rather than keep you at his house. His motives were not for himself; that much was clear to me in that moment. It... gave me pause.” Volkanon said, pausing now after he said it as well. His eyes were distant, his brow lined with his turning thoughts. “It is extraordinarily rare these days to see genuine investment and vulnerability in him. To protect himself he buried such emotional reactions years and years ago. My distaste for his behavior in general is tied to his lack of pride and passion. He avoids emotional investment when it comes to most things, always seeking the path of least resistance. It was... intriguing to see him wade into such a difficult and thankless position as he had.” 

 

“You mean because I was dating Dylas?” 

 

“I mean: he apparently had nothing to gain. His involvement would look questionable to anyone and as far as he knew, you would stay with Dylas and never reciprocate his feelings. He was clearly not expecting his efforts to be rewarded in any way.” 

 

“So?” 

 

“So for the first time in many years, I found myself feeling an inkling of respect for the man.” Volkanon said, smiling. 

 

“You don’t mean that.” Frey argued. 

 

“Come now, miss Frey. A man so devoted to his craft as I am? Surely you could see why Bado’s approach to life as long as you have known him would rankle with me?” 

 

“Yeah, I guess...” She admitted reluctantly. “I just don’t like to hear him disparaged, I suppose.” 

 

“As is natural for one who is so smitten.” He nodded, continuing to carefully comb her hair. “However, that is why I suggested you consider his fears seriously. You are biased because you understandably wish for a favorable outcome to your courtship. His concerns are valid, based on his history and recent events too. If you insist on dismissing his hesitation about being your suitor, you will miss an opportunity for deeper understanding. And... I know you do not wish to hear this... but you two are very different people. You may not be a good match, in the end.” Frey frowned, clamping her mouth shut over a vehement protest. She mustered her will and forced herself to remain calm.

 

“I do not think that being different from one another is a bad thing. And if you are talking about his age relative to mine—“ 

 

“That  _ is _ a concern, miss Frey.” Volkanon said firmly, “I know he is a dwarf and therefore aging is a little different for him, but there truly are reasons why such a gap in your years could work against you.”

 

“Like what?” Frey asked, only a little irritation actually making it into her tone. 

 

“Life teaches us slowly, in most cases. His reasonings and interpretations of things will be very different from yours, as they are informed by a different set of experiences—a broader one in many ways. When you inevitably find yourself disagreeing upon something, you will have a more difficult time understanding his perspective, so different from your own. And he, like many older gentlemen and ladies, may find it difficult to remain patient with a younger partner who does not have the life experience he has.” 

 

“He’s been  _ very _ patient with me so far...”

 

“I am certain. But, that does not mean you should disregard these possibilities. Merely wishing for your understanding and desires to overlap perfectly will not ensure that they do.” 

 

“I don’t think I understand you.” Frey complained quietly as Volkanon fitted the delicate silver scissors he used to trim her hair over his gloved fingers. “You say you are not suggesting that I give up on dating him, but everything you’re describing sounds like you don’t think it can work...” 

 

“I disagree, princess.” He said simply as he began to snip at the ends of her long hair. “I am simply encouraging you to see what is before you, and have an open mind. There are reasons why couples commonly choose those more similar to themselves, after all. If you refuse to believe the things I am telling you it will be all the more jarring when you encounter them first hand.” 

 

“Can you elaborate?” She grumbled, struggling to prevent herself from simply arguing.

 

“Yes. Take, for example, the current problem: you are insisting that he should remain with you because you want to be together, but you refuse to see his concerns as legitimate because they are in conflict with what you desire. Do you not think that such a dismissive approach to his fears will push him further toward solitary ruminating and hesitation? If he cannot effectively discuss those topics with you, what other choice will he have but to brood over them alone?” 

 

Frey’s eyes widened, her brow rising. A hot flush bloomed into her cheeks as shame materialized within her. She cast her eyes downward, resisting the urge to squirm in place. As she spoke her voice was small and faint:

 

“I... I see why you would say that.” She said, her expression clearly pained. “I’m not trying to dismiss him or simply push away his worries... It just... doesn’t bother me. I guess I thought if he knew that then it shouldn’t bother him, either.” 

 

“Alas, mortals are not quite as uncomplicated as that.” Volkanon said calmly as he made his way around Frey’s considerable volume of hair, trimming the ends as he went. 

 

“So, first I need to stop insisting the things he’s concerned about aren’t worth worrying about...” 

 

“I believe that would be an excellent start, yes.” 

 

“Then what? How do I fix this so he’ll finally let himself believe in this relationship?” 

 

“You cannot.” 

 

“What?” She barked, twisting around in place to glare at the old butler, who smiled gently at her. She bent a suspicious eyebrow at that and he chuckled. 

 

“You cannot ‘fix’ anything inside him. Though we may love one another, we cannot change each other. If he is to mend what has been broken inside him it will have to be his own decision and effort that does so.” 

 

“There  _ has  _ to be something I can do...” Frey pleaded. “I need him. I need this to work. I need him to understand and get better because I lo—“ Frey clapped a hand over her mouth, her brow fretting. 

 

“ _ I... wasn’t going to say those words... The last time... with Dylas... I wasn’t going to do ‘love’ again so soon...”  _

 

Volkanon stepped around her chair and knelt before her, pausing his service to her personal grooming to look seriously into her eyes. Her hand stayed clamped over her mouth. Why had she almost said those words? It was too soon... She’d only just begun to see him this way less than a fortnight ago. 

 

“ _ What is wrong with me?” _

 

Volkanon reached out a neat, gloved hand and plucked up her left hand from where it rested on the arm of the chair. He looked seriously into her eyes. 

 

“Miss Frey... I have nothing but esteem, faith, and affection for you. I hope that you trust that this is true.” She nodded slowly, afraid of what he might say. Was the old butler about to chastise her foolish attachment to a man she’d only just begun to know beyond a casual friendship? Volkanon squeezed her hand and spoke slowly and deliberately: “As you have recently discovered, you can do little but offer your heart to the one for whom it glows. It will be up to him to decide what to do with it. I do not know what Bado will do. Perhaps his fear will be too great and he will decline your devotion.” Frey visibly winced as he said this, but the butler held fast to her small hand, not letting her pull away completely. She looked anxiously into his blue eyes for some kind of support or reassurance. Anything.

 

“Is there any hope?” She whispered. 

 

“Of course. I believe I already described to you how Bado showed some very unique behavior when he carried you home and delivered you into my care. Perhaps he will rise to the best heights of his potential  _ because _ his desire and yours are one and the same. Perhaps he will find the way to heal from his scars so that he will be ready to truly receive your feelings. We do not know. We cannot know... until he shows you his choice. I only wished to remind you that what  _ he _ decides is not up to you. Please understand that even if his decision disappoints you... or hurts you... it would not be your fault.” 

 

Frey’s head bowed, her posture curling inward as she trembled at the idea. All the pain and shock of her previous relationship’s violent implosion was still there... still so fresh and raw inside her. So far she’d managed to bury it under the excitement of her new relationship, but it had not grown one ounce lighter on her shoulders. The thought that this courtship too would produce only heartbreak was too much to bear. 

 

“Do you... do you think he can love me?” She whispered.

 

“I cannot answer that, unfortunately” Volkanon said gently, “But... judging by his recent behavior I think we can safely say he cares deeply for you, miss Frey.” She raised her head, tears pooled in her eyes, and met the old butler’s gaze. “I believe he genuinely wants for you to be happy and healthy, and that is why I have not punched him for pursuing you.” He added reasonably. A strangled laugh burst forth from Frey’s lips. Her gathered tears spilled down over her cheeks, but her smile spread from ear to ear nevertheless. 

 

“Thank you for not punching my new boyfriend.” She said in exaggerated tones. The butler grinned at her. 

 

“You are most welcome, princess.” 

 

“Well... I guess I need to wrap my head around all the things you just told me and then talk to him about it.” She said, sighing. Why couldn’t something just be simple and pleasant without all this worry and sorrow? Volkanon nodded thoughtfully. 

 

“Please indulge me for one more piece of advice...” He said. She dipped her head in assent. The old man continued: “Remember to enjoy the time you have together. Perhaps your relationship to Bado will bear the fruit of a permanent companion, or perhaps it will be a short-lived romance. Either way, if it benefits you both—and assuming he continues to treat you well—I suggest you to indulge in your courtship. New love is a blissful thing, after all. And after all that you have recently experienced, I dare say you could use something blissful.” 

 

Frey’s smile slowly grew as she eyed the butler. After all his reservations about the lazy blacksmith of Selphia, he was actively encouraging her to revel in her new partnership to the man. 

 

“Was that difficult?” She asked in confidential tones. Volkanon sighed. 

 

“Extremely...” He admitted in a low, growling tone, then smiled. “I hope this proves I hold your happiness in higher regard than my personal feelings regarding that man.” Frey giggled. 

 

“Thank you.” She said warmly, taking the older gentleman’s gloved hand and squeezing gently. “I truly appreciate your counsel. 

 

“Anytime, my dear. Now, shall we finish with your hair so that you may go visit with your paramour today?” 

 

“Yes, please.” Frey chimed, sitting back in the chair. 

 

Volkanon was right. Regardless of anything else, Bado had agreed to be with her now. She let her memory drift back to the feeling of kissing him, of the warmth and pleasure and wanting...  _ being _ wanted... She  _ would _ enjoy this for as long as the big dwarven blacksmith was willing. Everything else was a bridge she’d cross when the time came. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty sure this is the most Volkanon dialogue I’ve ever written haha! He’s a pretty fun character. So straightforward in his motivations that he’s a little stiff. Still, his compassion brings it all into balance. 
> 
> It’s interesting writing a long Frey/Bado fic from the perspective I have now vs. like 7 years ago or whenever I wrote my first one hahaha! This time around, I have a greater understanding of the difference between a twenty-something year old and a thirty-something year old. It is fascinating writing them as being truly very different from one another in their attitudes. 
> 
> I’d be very curious to know if any of you lovely readers have ever dated someone ten years or more older than you and what your experience has been like. IRL my husband is only 2 years older than me so I don’t really have first hand experience with the subject. 
> 
> What do you all think of Volkanon’s advice to Frey? Can she, coming from the mixed-up, impatient place she’s in right now be the partner that could support Bado as he tries to overcome his issues? 
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments! I always love to hear your thoughts. 
> 
> Thanks, as always, for reading!


	29. Surprises

Bado’s eyes widened in shock as Frey pounced, throwing arms around his neck and kissing him without so much as a word of greeting. His arms caught her around the middle on pure reflex as she sprang toward him. He stepped backward, adjusting his balance, then melted as she laughed against his mouth, kissing him again and again without hesitation. Finally getting his bearings, he kissed her back, feeling a little jolt of arousal as she gave a high-pitched ‘mm!’ and squeezed him tightly. 

 

What on Earth was wrong with this woman? She’d come barging into his shop during regular hours and jumped him, just like that! What if there’d been customers here? There weren’t, of course, otherwise he might have hesitated—just a little—to accept her bold advance. As it was his ears were beginning to burn as she hungrily devoured every kiss he offered, reciprocating with her own increasingly fevered movements. 

 

“H-hey—hold—on—a—dang—minute...” He gasped between the kisses he was  _ still _ giving as well as receiving. 

 

“ _ There’s something wrong with me, too!”  _ He thought with an exasperated, yet pleased little feeling inside. 

 

“You—first!” She panted, wrapping her legs around his waist and redoubling her efforts. 

 

A confused little spasm went through the big man. Gods, she was so sexy... spirited and playful and wicked and sweet all at once. He should stop this and just have a damned conversation with her instead. But, he didn’t  _ want _ to stop. 

 

With a growl that cut off into a muffled, feverish groan as she pressed her mouth to his and slipped her tongue between his lips, Bado ducked through the curtained doorway to his room, clutching the warm weight of his little ‘Fireflower’ tightly to his broad chest. He tilted his head and mirrored her movements, growing hard below as his tongue slid over hers and she hummed a delighted moan within the kiss. Giving in to the  _ delicious  _ temptation of her pressed against him and kissing him so passionately, Bado shifted his big hands and smoothed them down along the curves of her beautiful body until they came to rest in a firm grip over her butt. 

 

“Mmm! H-hi, big guy” She breathed, grinning with bright, fiery eyes at him as they broke the kiss and regarded each other’s flushed faces for the first time since she’d charged him. 

 

“Hi, yourself.” Bado replied in a husky version of his usual deep voice. “Anyone ever tell ya you got a lotta nerve, princess?” 

 

“Yeah, I think I have heard that before.” She replied, still grinning wickedly at him. “I just thought it might be fun to surprise you. I was feeling up for a little fun and I’m betting you could use it after all the stress lately—Just kissing! Nothing more intimate than this!” She assured, holding her hands up palms-out, as he raised an eyebrow at her. He tried  _ very  _ hard to forget he was holding her up in his arms just a few inches above the very eager erection she’d triggered in him. No need to draw attention to  _ that _ , knowing she wasn’t actually trying to get into his pants right now. 

 

Despite her assurance, it was so difficult to believe her when the taste of her aggressive kisses was still lingering on his lips and tongue. She certainly  _ seemed _ eager to venture into a decadent, intimate encounter with him, but was that really the truth? Was she holding back only because of his own reluctance before? Or was he merely seeing what he—or rather the part of him that wanted to remove her undergarments with his teeth— _ wanted _ to see? 

 

Come to think of it... she  _ had  _ refrained from touching his ears this time. Maybe the little minx  _ was _ trying to behave, as promised. 

 

“ _ Why did I tell her we should wait, again?”  _ A famished and frustrated part of him growled inside. It had been  _ so long  _ since he’d had  _ this  _ kind of diversion from the combination of boredom and old, old pains his life had become. He stared hungrily at her lips, her neck, collar, the tops of her breasts perky and plump as they filled up the bodice of her outfit. 

 

_ “No, she’s not some trick to take my mind off of my issues...”  _ His better judgement shouldered its way into the conversation in his head. “ _ When it’s finally time to taste the rest of you, darling... I want to do it  _ right.” 

 

“Well... consider me both surprised  _ and _ pleased.” He breathed quietly, letting his hungry eyes hold her gaze. 

 

“Good.” She snickered, scrunching her nose like a  mischievous little pixie or something. “I’m glad you liked it.” 

 

“‘Liked’ is such a measly word for it.” He countered, smirking. But despite his desire and the heavy flirting, he carefully set her down on her feet in his room. Like it or not, he had the distinct impression his hunger for her would not withstand much further temptation in the moment. At least the savoring of her obvious attraction to him was a decadent consolation prize. 

 

“Well, now that you’ve rendered my mind  _ utterly  _ unable to focus on work...” He said in pleased tones, feigning rueful body language. “What shall we do with this day?” 

 

Frey grinned at him, a perfect mixture of joy and mischief in her eyes. 

 

“Adventure?” She offered, “Find some nice, weird new stock for your silly shop?”

 

“Silly?” He countered, making a show of looking affronted. “I’m  _ wounded _ , princess!” 

 

Frey rolled her eyes and dragged her fingertip down the snout of a brass stag’s head wearing a crown made of paper flowers that had been gathering dust on his wall for some months now. 

 

“You’re right. What could possibly be interpreted as silly about  _ this?”  _ She conceded. 

 

Bado smirked at her, his heart fluttering as she bent an eyebrow at him. Once his life seemed like it would end before it truly began; later it seemed he’d served his purpose and would spend the bulk of his long, dwarven lifespan waning. Now... now, it seemed his story might unfold in ways he’d never dreamed possible.

 

“ _ All thanks to you, Fireflower...”  _ He thought, glowing as he gazed at her. Her expression lost its mischievous quirk and she blinked at him, blushing a rich pink across her cheeks. She fidgeted, glancing away and blinking rapidly. She looked... vulnerable. That loving, open side of her that Dylas had wounded, that he had felt  _ compelled _ to support in her tearful hours... fragile as spun glass, beautiful and delicate and placed in his waiting hands by her, the woman he’d fallen for as soon as he’d seen her. 

 

“ _ But...”  _ A foreboding voice inside interjected, “ _ can you be trusted with her?”  _

 

Bado’s face fell. Always... always that darker side of him, his past, what he’d been and left behind, haunted his hopes, dragging along behind like a wounded, feral dog. That fervor rose within him once more, the will to change, to become something greater... for her. He  _ would _ conquer these demons. He  _ would _ protect her from all, even his worst self. Silently he promised himself he’d go to Porcoline, as Ventuswill had advised, the very next opportunity he had. Still he could not visualize how the rotund gastronomist could be especially well-suited to help him, but his desperation to banish the ghosts of his past would leave no stone unturned. 

 

“Bado?” Frey’s voice interrupted his thoughts quietly. He blinked, shaking himself slightly. When his eyes found hers she looked worried. Looking down, he found her small, graceful hands pressed against his chest as she leaned into him, reaching upward with that tender expression searching him, wanting to hear that he was alright. 

 

He wasn’t alright. He wouldn’t be until he’d gotten all this sorted. But... for now he could have faith. Frey wanted him. Ventuswill believed in him. Tristan... Tristan would have told him to do whatever it took. His own unbreakable bond to Lily had been the center of his life. Always he had wished for Bado to know that fundamental joy of true belonging: to be loved wholly and deeply by another. 

 

“ _ It wasn’t something you could do for me, old friend. But maybe now I can find that happy ending you tried so hard to find me.” _ Bado smiled gently down at Frey as his thoughts concluded. 

 

“I’m... sure glad to be here with you, Frey.” He said simply. It was true: as true as anything he’d ever said in his life. The future may be uncertain, but these moments with her were a beacon he could follow toward a fulfilling future for both of them. 

 

“I’m glad too,” She said in a small, soft voice, “I only wish I could undo these worried lines...” Her delicate fingers traced his brow, the corners of his eyes, his cheeks. He shivered as her trailing touch pulled at him, not just his hunger for her body, but his desire to melt into her hands and savor the way she treasured him. He’d known the firebrand touch of an amorous, physical tryst. This was different.  _ No one _ had ever touched him as if he was the light they’d been chasing all their lives. True, she’d never said “I love you” to him, but if  _ this _ weren’t love painted onto his skin by the tender caress of her fingertips, then he did not properly know what love was. 

 

Bado’s large, roughened hands found Frey’s, closed over them, and squeezed gently. 

 

“I’m working on it, sweetheart.” He murmured. “I’m sorry to worry you, but hopefully soon we can both put those worries behind us.” She swallowed, eyes searching his, and nodded. 

 

“I trust you.” Came her quiet reply, somehow brave despite the smallness of her voice in this moment. “Just tell me if there’s anything at all I can do to help.” 

 

“You got it.” He murmured, smiling softly.

 

He squeezed her hands once more, and bent to kiss her. She received the kiss with a soft, slow, deliberate motion. The warmth glowing in his chest redoubled. This woman...  _ this _ woman was no princess. She was a  _ queen _ . And he, a lowborn fool who’d thrown away all honor in the knighthood... He was going to  _ earn _ his place at her side. 

  
  


* * * * * 

 

Carrots... Doug had never particularly enjoyed carrots. He didn’t  _ hate _ them or anything... but they seemed like they were always the  _ least  _ desirable ingredient in whatever he was eating. Now, though.. now he found himself inspecting each of the long orange roots with a discerning eye, arranging the nicest ones in the crook of one arm as he ruminated on how best to present the dang things to his crush. 

 

_ “Man, a horse joke seems pretty appropriate to handing the guy a big bunch of carrots.”  _ He thought ruefully, having already promised himself to try  _ not _ to insult the other boy to his face for a whole conversation. Did Dylas like carrots before he became a guardian or was it  _ because _ he’d spent several centuries as a horse?

 

Suddenly a warmth began to glow in Doug’s cheeks. How would the half-monster react to receiving a gift from him without a side of sassy comments? Was this too obvious? What if Dylas figured out he had a crush on him from this? Was he ready for him to know that? 

 

“ _ Gods. Yes!”  _ Some part of the diminutive dwarf screamed inside. How long had he been pining for this man in secret? At least if Dylas  _ knew _ how Doug felt about him, he could move on with his life either with him or without him. Fear bubbled in his belly. Of course it was possible his feelings would not be accepted, but it wasn’t an outcome he wanted to consider. 

 

No, it wasn’t time yet. Dylas had given him a gift, now he was going to give one in return. Simple as that. Doug blushed again. The way his heart had hammered in his chest as Dylas handed him that home-cooked meal had been a harsh reminder just how little his infatuation with the other man had abated in all that time he’d watched Dylas go around town hand-in-hand with Selphia’s princess. He really did have it bad. 

 

“ _ Should I tie a ribbon around these or something?”  _ He thought, furrowing his brow and biting his lip as he considered. “ _ No one gives a bunch of damn carrots as a gift to a guy. There’s no normal way to do this...”  _ He sighed and piled the carrots into a bag. He put his coins directly into the cash box at the counter; he did work here after all. 

The short, red-headed man slung the bag of roots over his shoulder and began the walk North to Porcoline’s restaurant. 

 

* * * * * 

 

Ventuswill the Divine Wind craned her long neck over the shoulder of a lean man with long brown hair plaited in a tail that draped over his shoulder. The fashion of his clothing came from a place not far enough to be remote in the age of airships, but Alvarna was still a place those without such privilege would likely never see. Nevertheless, the school his community had built with their own hands had put the tiny village on the map, so to speak. Now, even the royals in the capital city were beginning to see the place as an asset.

 

“ _ Fools.” _ Thought the dragon, “ _ The true value of Alvarna, as with any place, are the people of that community.”  _ She eyed Barrett as he traced a line of light in the shape of a circle on the stone dais before her. He made an odd little gesture: a flourishing flick of his wrist that seemed to pluck something from the air in Ventuswill’s direction and cast it down into the center of the circle. A spike of glowing rune energy kindled to life in the middle of the ring of light. 

 

“That’s you.” Barrett explained in his low, monotone voice. He made another two handed gesture, muttered a string of Ath words, and began rapidly drawing letters from the ancient script around the border of the circle. At the cardinal points surrounding the design, he made special markers for North, East, South, and West. The Native Dragon watched intently as this mortal scholar of ancient magic long since fallen out of use worked the spell. It never ceased to amaze her how these tiny creatures, so short-lived and fragile, could  _ learn _ and  _ change _ as they did. Unlike the ancient beings that ruled this plane, such as herself, their very nature seemed to be change itself. Ventuswill could not defy her nature, but a mortal man or woman could seem a different person from one year to the next. Just look at that little red-headed dwarf, Doug! So strange that she should be given all these centuries of life, always the same steady creature, when the malleable and dynamic beings that scurried about below her made such incredible strides in the scant few years provided them before their souls rejoined the Earth. 

 

Barrett straightened up and made a grasping gesture in the air above the glowing design on the floor. His hand seemed to find a strand, pulled taught and connected to something in Ventuswill’s chest. She gave a little squawk of surprise as she felt the tug and the thread glowed a fiery blue in his hands. Barrett’s usually impassive face cracked into a triumphant little smile. He twisted in place, looking southward to where the thread stretched off into infinity. With his opposite hand he made a gesture above the circle. The thread in the air shattered, and a second little torch of rune energy glowed to life to the southeast of her own, on the rim of the circle. Barrett made a presenting gesture and looked up with that stony expression he typically wore. 

 

“There.” He said plainly.

 

“There  _ what _ ?” She countered. 

 

“There’s what’s taking your energy.”

 

“What is it?” 

 

“Not sure. But we know where it is now.” Ventuswill snorted. 

 

“What good is that if we don’t even know what’s causing it?” 

 

“You can go look, now.” He shrugged. 

 

She sighed. He just didn’t understand. She was already too weak to go flying across the countryside searching for some unknown enemy that had the ability to drain her of energy. And why would she agree to send someone into the unknown to seek out a mysterious unknown force capable of sapping a Native Dragon to the very brink of extinction from a distance? It was out of the question. 

 

“I need more information on what it is before anyone goes toward it.” She said seriously. Barrett tilted his head. 

 

“Well, you’re the God around here. There’s likely only so many things that can do what this is doing right? Do you have any theories as to what it could be?” 

 

The dragon wilted slightly. 

 

“Not exactly... I was never supposed to live this long. The Earth began calling me back centuries ago. Perhaps this is simply a more extreme version of that call.” 

 

“Hmm...” Barrett grunted, “Nah... I don’t think so.” 

 

“Why not?” 

 

“This is coming from a specific place we can pinpoint,” he explained, “If it was the Earth itself draining you, why would it bother to draw your power from some random spot south of here instead of right beneath your feet? Or maybe it wouldn’t even be localized at all. You can’t exactly find the direction of something that is literally all around you.” 

 

“I suppose those arguments are logical.” She conceded. 

 

“Think. What else has the power to tap into the energy of a native dragon?” Barrett insisted, jabbing a finger at her. The great dragon sighed loudly. 

 

“There just  _ aren’t _ that many things that can do  _ anything _ to a Native Dragon.” She grumbled. “That’s kinda why we’re considered  _ gods _ and all.” 

 

“Good. It’ll be a short list, then.” Barrett said with a blunt finality that drew a snort from the huge creature before him. She gave a long-suffering sigh, glared at him briefly, then spoke once more: 

 

“The rune spheres, and by logical extrapolation the group of Earthmates that created them could potentially influence the balance of Runes in a being such as myself.” 

 

“Good. What else?” 

 

“Mother Gaia herself, the world beneath our feet.” 

 

“Yep. Already ruled that one out, though.” He said simply. Ventuswill eyed him irritably. Really, making such simplifications of the very inner workings of their world?

 

“Beyond that only another Native Dra—“ The breath stopped in her throat as an idea struck her mind like a thunderbolt form the heavens. Her large eyes grew wide and stunned. Her voice wouldn’t come, trapped in the barrel chest of her enormous body. Her feathers drooped downward, limp, then rattled to an electrified extension, puffing her figure up in a strange colorful display of regal plumage. 

 

“What is it?” Barrett demanded, his eyes bright and sharp as he recognized her change in demeanor. Her eyes snapped down to him and her snout followed. 

 

“Can you use your magic to locate a Native Dragon?” She demanded suddenly. Barrett blinked, then nodded, his eyes wide. 

 

“Yeah. It’ll take time though. Gotta get some special materials. Which element are you looking for?” He asked warily. 

 

“All of them. Please prepare it with all haste.” She said with resolve, her gaze stretching southward with her thoughts. 

 

“ _ If you are out there... just wait a little longer.”  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yours truly is getting very impatient to write at least one of these couples finally doing more than smoochin’. 
> 
> We’ll all just have to wait patiently, though. Plot doesn’t develop faster just because we’re horny, alas. 
> 
> Still, it’s awfully fun to write a couple who for whatever reason isn’t yet getting really intimate even though they want to. That anticipation and yearning is just delicious! 
> 
> Talking of which, I don’t have half a hundred more chapters in me to develop Dylas and Doug’s relationship so slowly, so I’m working on crashing dem boys together sooner than later. Gotta figure out how, exactly though. *shifty eyes* 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the surprise make-out session as much as Bado did, and I hope you’re looking forward to the next chapters as well! 
> 
> Ah, also! I’m curious: What do you think Barrett has found with his magic? Any guesses? :3


	30. Innocence

Dylas crept down the staircase and toward the door, carefully holding the fishing pole and tackle box out so they wouldn’t rattle or clatter against the walls or railing. He’d finished his shift without incident. No surprise visits from Doug at the restaurant, which made sense given the fact Dylas had already provided the man with a very filling midday meal. Now all he had to do was get out of town before he ran into anyone, especially _him._ He just needed time; that was all. 

 

No sign of Arthur in his office. Good. Dylas didn’t want to take up that conversation where they’d left off just at present anyway. He tiptoed down the last few stairs and toward the door. 

 

“ _Why are you sneaking around in the place where you live, idiot?”_ He clenched his teeth as he reached for the handle.

 

Suddenly the door opened and swung inward. Dylas barely jumped back in time to avoid being struck across the face with the edge of the thing. A jolt of red color splashed into his field of vision and just like that, his heart was racing a mile a minute again. 

 

“He—OH! You’re here!” Doug’s voice came in a shaky, startled tone. Dylas gritted his teeth, forcing a smile that probably looked as ghastly as it felt, judging by Doug’s wincing expression now. 

 

“H-hi.” He forced out the word through clenched teeth. Doug blinked at him, looking confused. 

 

“Are... you okay?” He ventured, looking him up and down with those reflective, silvery eyes. Dylas’ face grew hot as his heart hammered in his chest. 

 

“Fine. I’m fine.” He hurriedly blurted. “Wha’d’ya need?” 

 

“Oh, I uh... I just came to give you something. Sort of a ‘thank you for the thank you gift’ gift. Heh.” Doug explained somewhat awkwardly, pulling a big bundle of vividly orange carrots form the bag slung across his shoulder and presenting them with slightly unsteady hands. 

 

Dylas stared down at the roots, one of his most favorite foods, and swallowed. No. He didn’t need this right now. Not when he was trying so hard to get this damned boy _out_ of his head! 

 

“I, uh...” He stammered. He stared, frozen, at the carrots. Doug’s outstretched arms began to sink slowly, his expression falling. Dylas snapped out of his stupification, set down his fishing gear against the wall, and took the carrots, nodding abashedly. “Thanks. They’re great.” He mumbled nervously. Doug had gone out of his way to give him a gift in return just hours after he’d presented that meal to him... How exactly should he interpret this? There seemed only one obvious answer and yet he couldn’t believe _that._

 

 _“_ S-sorry. I thought I remembered something about you liking them. Maybe I was wrong, though.” Doug said shakily, fidgeting with the scabbard on his belt and looking away. 

 

“No, that’s not’it!” Dylas said, so hurried his words smashed together a little. “I d-do like carrots. I just... wasn’t expecting this. That’s all.” 

 

“Oh? Oh! Good.” Doug beamed. “I’m glad I got it right after all.” He glanced over at the fishing pole and tackle box Dylas had deposited beside the wall.  “Were you on your way out? Sorry if I came at a bad time.” 

 

“N-no it’s okay.” Dylas stammered, fidgeting with the bright green, lacy top of one of the carrots. “I was just going to do some fishing.” 

 

“Yeah? Want some company?” 

 

“Sure.” 

 

“ _What?! IDIOT! What the hell are you THINKING? The whole point was to get AWAY from him!”_ Dylas’ inner self panicked, hissing at him even as he gave a shaky smile and nodded to the other man, who was smiling at him in a bright, pleased attitude, like he’d gotten an unexpected treat. 

 

“I-I just need to put these in the fridge.” He said, gesturing toward the door to the restaurant. “And tell Porco not to eat them.” He added with an embarrassed look. Living with Selphia’s prodigious chef came with certain unusual drawbacks, one of which being you always had to guard every scrap of food or ingredients you wanted to reserve for something specific or the man would gobble them up without even pausing for breath.

 

He scurried into the kitchen, calling ‘Be right back!’ Over his shoulder to Doug. Sweat had begun to bead on the back of his neck, beneath his long hair. What was he doing? What the _hell_ was he doing? A giddy little corner of his mind was delightedly dancing about, while the majority of him panicked. Why had he said yes? Why?? 

 

“Ohhhhhh!” Came a loud, musical voice as he passed into the kitchen, crooning in exaggerated tones like always: “Are those for moiiiii?” 

 

“No! Come off it, Porco! They’re mine!” He said firmly. You _had_ to be firm around food with Porco. 

 

“Hmmm? But this is so strange! You don’t usually do the shopping, Dylas!” Porco wondered aloud as he eyed the vegetables with a sad, forlorn air. 

 

“They were a gift, okay? Just leave them be. I want to make something with them later.” Dylas explained hurriedly as he stuffed the carrots into the large fridge in the restaurant’s kitchen. 

 

“A gift? From whom?” Porco squealed, his big, watery, blue eyes shining with interest, suddenly. 

 

“Uh, Doug.” Dylas admitted, not sure how to avoid it without sounding _incredibly_ suspicious. 

 

“Oooohooohooo-la-laaaa!” Porcoline gushed, twirling about on the spot. “What a thoughtful young man you’ve landed yourself!” 

 

“What?! Shaddup! He’ll hear you! And It’s not like that! Just—just—Gah!” Dylas spun on his heel and stormed out of the room before Porco started singing or something. The eccentric chef’s raucous giggling followed him like some annoying, chittering bird as he shuffled back into the office in a hurry. 

 

“Sorry about that.” He muttered, bustling over and snatching up his fishing gear. He looked Doug over, then blinked. “Hey, I forgot to ask: Have you got any gear?” 

 

“Gear?” 

 

“For fishing. You know... a pole, at least?” 

 

“OH! Ummm... no. I don’t.” The dwarf grinned sheepishly, ears flushing red. Dylas gave a huff of a laugh, finally feeling like he wasn’t the only fool in the room. 

 

“Hold on. I’ll grab another of mine.” He said, a hint of a laugh in his voice. 

 

His thoughts scrabbled around, fighting like feral cats in the hollows of his mind, but his heart simply floated happily up the stairway with him as he dashed to his room, quickly selected a suitable pole for a beginner, and returned to his guest with hand outstretched, offering the tool. 

 

“Thanks.” Doug said, giving another embarrassed smirk as he accepted it. 

 

Dylas nodded, then picked up his things and led Doug out of the building and down the street toward the lake. 

 

* * * * *  

“Where are we going, again?” Bado asked in a casual tone. Frey shrugged as they walked down the dappled forest path, lush with ever-summer greenery and alive with birdsong. The broadsword strapped to his back clinked quietly against his belt with each step. He hadn’t wanted to bring a weapon but Frey went about unarmed these days, relying on her magical talents for any needed force. Despite her prowess in the magical arts, he couldn’t quite feel easy in his mind without one of them bearing steel. After all, there were creatures who bore staunch resistance to magic out there, not unlike himself. Frey pranced along beside him, apparently oblivious to the idea of lurking danger. 

 

“I dunno! Somewhere new. That’s where we’ll find the most interesting stuff, don’t you think?” 

 

“I s’pose that’s logical enough.” The big man allowed. “Don’t know if I like the idea of carryin’ it all the way home, though.” 

 

“Pff. Whatever. I’ve seen you carry a horse’s weight like it’s nothing at all!” 

 

“Yeah, well... just cause I _can_ doesn’t mean I _want_ to.” 

 

“I’m guessing if you find something interesting enough to carry back, that just means it’s _really_ good stock for your store, right?” 

 

“You always this optimistic?” 

 

“You already know I am.” She chided, smiling at him over her shoulder. His mouth quirked into a reluctant smile of his own, unable to hold up his grumpy attitude in the face of her bright spirit. 

 

“Yeah, I s’pose I do.” He allowed, taking a couple long strides to catch up with her and snaking an arm around her waist. The big man squeezed her to his side in a casual gesture. They’d only been a couple a short time thus far, but somehow it already felt easy to be affectionate with her. Maybe that was more to do with her own personality than his, he mused as she cuddled happily against him, wrapping her own slender arm about the trunk of his big, broad body. He bent an eyebrow as he looked down, regarding her. She barely came up to his chest, her butterfly bows and the sparkling tiara atop her royal head in line with the breast pockets of his vest. Of course he _knew_ she was diminutive already, but sometimes it was easy to forget just how different they were from one another, physically.

 

“ _How’s this gonna work...”_ An idle—and slightly wicked—part of his mind wondered. “ _I suppose she could just be on top? Wouldn’t mind that... good view, nice to lay down as long as the bed is big enough...”_ She _had_ said she was planning on ordering a big enough bed for the both of them to use at the castle. At the castle... could he sleep with her at the castle? Or rather, could he survive her butlers’ reactions to him sleeping with their at the castle? 

 

“What’re you thinking so hard about, big fella?” Frey interjected into his musings, her voice playful and curious. 

 

“Oh, uh... nothin’ relevant to treasure hunting...” He said evasively. Damn him and his inability to actually speak a direct lie. Had he been cursed by a witch at some point or something? Why was he like this? Tristan used to say he had unshakable principles. Even if that were true, though... _gods_ it was annoying. Not all lies were harmful. And wouldn’t it be convenient if he _could_ simply say, “Oh, just thinking about what to have for dinner.” and not have to explain himself—or his embarrassingly amorous train of thought? But no, his sly little girlfriend was peering up at him with a prying gaze. He sighed, blushing. 

 

“Just wondering if your loyal servants are gonna be alright with finding _me_ in your bed someday when they come to do your wake up call.” 

 

“Well, they’ll have to be, I suppose.” She shrugged. He gave a little huff of disbelieving laughter. 

 

“Anything phase you, Princess?” 

 

“Yeah, obviously.” She rolled her eyes with a smile, “But _that_ hardly seems worth stressing over.”

 

“Easy for you to say. _You’re_ not the one they’ll want to murder for it!” 

 

“No one’s gonna murder you, sweetheart.” She cooed, patting his hand with an exaggerated conciliatory attitude. “Honestly, people are always trying to marry royals off anyway. They’ve gotta get comfortable with the idea of those same royals getting frisky with someone eventually, right?” 

 

Bado gulped. 

 

“Didn’t say anything about gettin’ married...” He mumbled, heart pounding. Frey’s eyes widened and her face turned crimson. 

 

“I didn’t mean—I wasn’t trying to imply anything. J-just. You know... traditionally... and stuff...” She floundered. Her sudden shift in demeanor to a very anxious, very flustered persona soothed his own rattled spirits. He chuckled. 

 

“Speakin’ o’ which, though...” He added, brow furrowing, “You sure you’re up for tossin’ that ‘traditional’ approach to relationships out the window?”

 

“Hm?” 

 

“I mean gettin’ busy without gettin’ hitched.” He said, trying to sound relaxed despite the butterflies in his stomach. The hell was that about? He wasn’t some teenage boy... 

 

“Oh! Well, I’m pretty sure I’ve already done it, so...” She shrugged with the arm not looped around his middle. Bado’s eyebrows shot upward and he looked at her with a bewildered, wide-eyed glance. 

 

“What?” She demanded. 

 

“I... don’t even know where to begin.” He laughed abashedly. “I guess it makes sense you don’t remember before—ya know. But then how do you know?”

 

“I just... know?” She said, not sounding terribly sure at _all_. He gave her a skeptical glance. “It’s like... well, you know how you can remember what it feels like to eat an apple, even if you haven’t eaten one in months? I just already know what it feels like. And I have dreams about sex that actually make sense—not just weird dream nonsense, you know?” Bado gulped again, his left ear twitching. That little tell was probably plenty visible, but hopefully she wouldn’t notice from down there at her shorter stature. 

 

“ _Gods she sounds so young...”_ He thought, anxiety bubbling in his gut now. “ _Can I really do this?”_ In general her age had never given him pause in his attraction or attachment to Frey. It was just... sometimes the way she talked about things reminded him so sharply that they’d walked such different paths in life. And when it came to _this..._ even if she _had_ some kind of sexual experience she couldn’t remember, she sure didn’t sound like she was _that_ familiar with it. He swallowed. 

 

“ _Well at least you know she never fucked Dylas.”_ The thought came unbidden and he immediately felt a stab of shame for it. “ _Quit that right now,”_ He chastised himself, “ _You ain’t got any right to be possessive. She’s her own woman an’ outside of this relationship what’s in the past is none of your damned business anyway.”_

 

 _“_ What is it now?” She asked, smirking at him. He stammered an unintelligible deflection. Her gaze turned a few shades more sly, wicked even. “That’s right, I never slept with him if that’s what you’re wondering.” He blinked at her, and heard himself speak before the thought formed properly:

 

“Why not?” 

 

“ _Why the HELL did you just ask that?”_ Came the immediate, incredulous reaction inside. 

 

“I... dunno exactly. I guess it’s because he was always so flustered... off balance even if I just hugged him or held his hand. I just assumed someday, maybe if we _did_ get married, that he’d finally get comfortable with the idea.” 

 

“It might be a bit old fashioned of me... but it seems like a princess would generally be expected to be the one less comfortable with having sex outside of marriage.” 

 

“I’m not a real princess.” She reminded him with a smirk. He laughed in spite of himself. 

 

“Lucky for me.” 

 

“Lucky for _ME!”_ She corrected him, echoing his laughter. “What a lousy deal!” 

 

“I dunno... the posh living quarters and fancy butlers everywhere seems like a nice perk...” He said thoughtfully. 

 

“I’d rather have _you_.” She said boldly in spite of the bright blush of pink in her cheeks and her slightly wide-eyed look. His breath caught in his throat. 

 

“ _Who_ are _you, woman? Did I die and go to some kinda dream world where foxy little warrior women come on to big, oddball doofuses on the regular?”_

 

“There you go again.” He breathed as he regained control of his voice. “Where the hell did you learn that?” 

 

“No idea.” She grinned. “I’m extremely mysterious, even to myself!” 

 

“That you are.” He agreed. 

 

“Anyway, you don’t need to be embarrassed to be caught thinking about fucking me.” She said, too casually for the deep blush in her cheeks. A visible spasm shot through the whole towering height of the blacksmith. He separated from her, if only to be able to lean back and level his startled gaze at her whole self. 

 

“You’re gonna give me some kinda fit, talking like that.” He rasped. She raised her brows in a challenging expression. 

 

“I’m just saying: I’m not some little innocent waif. I may not know _who_ I slept with or _when_ exactly, but I do know I _liked_ it, and I want to do it with you now that we’re together.”

 

“I-I hear ya, Fireflower. And trust me, it ain’t any lack of wanting that’s slowin’ me down. I’m just playin’ catch up a bit, here. I’ll be honest, I _do_ have this idea of you being kinda innocent. Probably just because you’re young, I guess.” He looked away, shuffling his feet a bit.

 

“Does it bother you?” 

 

“Does what?” 

 

“My age.” 

 

“Nah, I wouldn’t say that, exactly. I just worry sometimes  that you’re gonna find it a little difficult to be with someone _my_ age.”

 

“Why?” 

 

“Why do any folks your age scoff at folks older’n’em?  I might not be the speed you’re after, ya know?” 

 

“No, I don’t know. I’m not looking for some specific ‘type’ of guy. I like _you_ , Bado. I don’t see what your age really has to do with it.” 

 

Something passed over Frey’s face just as she finished speaking, as if some unpleasant thought had come riding on the tail of what she’d said. Were her words not wholly true? Maybe she was only trying her best to reassure him. He swallowed, unsure what to say, so he stayed silent. 

 

“I’m sorry.” Frey said after a few more steps through the wooded path. “I didn’t mean to brush you off.” 

 

“Huh?” He replied, genuinely confused now.

 

“About your age and mine...” She said, rubbing one arm with the other. “I got some good advice recently about being more careful with what I say to you. I kinda just blew it though.” 

 

“Careful what you say?” He echoed, brow bent. Obviously something was worrying her about their relationship to one another and it didn’t sound like it had much to do with the things that worried _him_ about it, either. 

 

“Yeah,” She said, wrapping her arms around herself as she walked beside him, looking fretfully down at the forest floor beneath their feet. “I... I _am_ a pretty optimistic person by nature. S-so... it kinda makes sense that nothing much would worry me about us dating.” She explained slowly. He bit his tongue, still unsure, but not about to stop her speech. “Sometimes when you talk about the things that concern you, though... I have this impulse to insist they’re not worth worrying over. It’s only because that’s how I feel about it; _I’m_ not worried, ya know? But... it could be... dismissive, I think. I’ll try harder, Bado. I want to listen to you and understand you.” 

 

Bado stopped walking. Frey stopped too, turning in place to look up at him with those concerned eyes shining like emeralds. 

 

“Well... that’s not exactly something I’d expect from someone barely twenty. Maybe it’s less of an issue than I would’a guessed.” He said gently, the corner of his mouth curling upward. Frey smiled in return, the anxious caste to her features melting away. 

 

“It’s borrowed wisdom.” She said, fidgeting with her hair a little, “So I can’t really take the credit.” 

 

“Well, twenty-something’s don’t always listen to good advice, either.” He winked, “So I’ll give you half-credit.” She gave a tiny laugh, acknowledging his joke. Then a thought occurred to him: Who would have cared enough about her relationship to him to give that advice? He bent his brow at her. “Who...” He began 

 

“Volkanon.” She shrugged, blushing.

 

“Wha?!” He barked, mouth open. The huge, burly butler was one of the _last_ people he would have expected to support their courtship. 

 

“What?” She echoed, smiling in a slightly smug fashion.

 

“Uh, Nothin’. I just... would have expected him to hit me long before he helped me with, uh...” He explained in halting, embarrassed phrases, rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. Frey burst into laughter that set the butterflies in his stomach swarming about all over again. Maybe his age really didn’t matter at all, given she had him squirming around like he was a nineteen year old boy again fumbling his way through his first relationship with a girl. 

 

“He _did_ say he’d been intending to punch you for coming onto me.” She giggled. His brows raised in an exaggerated expression of nervousness. She laughed again at his play. “But you impressed him somehow when you brought me home drunk that night, so he held back.” 

 

“Huh... well I’ll be...” He said in authentic wonderment. 

 

This whole situation felt so strange... One moment it felt like they were crossing the will of the gods, the fear and stress and sorrow bestowed on them by the disastrous events of late concerning Dylas. Then, some odd sign of benevolence would shine on their unlikely partnership, almost as if it were fate. It had him spinning more often than not, unsure what to believe and simply thankful to be the man she looked at that way with those shining green eyes...

 

“He said a lot of things,” She explained in a softened voice, “Not all of them were encouraging. But at the end of the conversation he urged me to enjoy this, regardless of what may come.” She gazed at him, the unguarded affection and yearning in her eyes crystal clear. His heart hammered against his ribs. 

 

“I suppose that’s why you...” He trailed off, his own expression softening into a dreamy longing to match hers. 

 

“Yeah...” She whispered, biting her lip, the fiery look in her eyes burning with passion just as it had when she’d jumped him in the shop earlier. 

 

Oh... _gods_ , why _shouldn’t_ he just let her tear his clothes off right here on the forest floor?

 

“I, uh...” He murmured stupidly, swallowing, eyes locked on the part of her sweet, luscious lip pinned beneath her teeth. 

 

A wild snarl shattered the air around them as a huge animal silhouette burst from the foliage to his right. A streak of black and blue fur, like a shrieking flash of midnight crashing into midday through some tear in reality, swallowed up his field of vision. Then, teeth, flashing eyes lurid yellow, and the whole weight of the thing slammed into him, hot animal breath in his ears and nose as he fell beneath its clawed forelimbs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy, Dylas can’t help himself and Frey is trying VERY hard to make sure she’s ‘cool’ enough hahaha.   
> Oh these silly, silly characters. I love them <3 
> 
> I am very much looking forward to writing Doug & Dylas’ fishing scene. I hope you’re looking forward to it, too! Heheh! 
> 
> And, of course, things developing on the Bado/Frey side are both delicious and topsy-turvey at every new development haha. Someday they’ll mellow out. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this new chapter! I kinda ate my backlog again slacking off and playing Pokémon. Whoopsie! Haha. Hopefully I’ll be on top of writing for the next while and there won’t be any missed weeks for my regular updates. Wish me luck!


	31. Shaken Spirits

A shock of pain shot through Bado’s spine as he was slammed to the ground, head smacking into the hard-packed trail. A flash of white obscured his vision even as he bared his teeth and seized the wrists of the clawed forelimbs pinning his shoulders in his big, rough hands. When his mind grasped again onto his vision, gleaming fangs loomed before his eyes, dripping with  glossy ropes of saliva. A guttural snarl sounded from the throat of the huge shadow panther as it gloated momentarily over its prey. Even as the big blacksmith gathered his strength to fling the creature off of him, the jaws of the beast were already descending toward his face and neck. Fear sparked to life inside him, bringing forth the rage of a cornered beast: the fight that had always been there to keep him alive when sword or fist or fang had aimed to bring him down. 

 

Then the weight of the monster was gone from his chest, blasted from his field of vision by a tremendous jet of water. He blinked, his spluttering gasp overlapping the startled yowling shriek of the panther as the water drenched them both. No time. No time to wonder. Bado rolled, jumping to his feet and raising fists in a guard position. Frey was standing nearby with arms outstretched, a curl of blue light dissipating around her arm following her casting. Her bright eyes were hard with the light of battle, the determination to survive, to fight, to win. 

 

The shadow panther rolled in the dust, instantly caking a fine coating of mud into its ebony fur, then sprang to its dagger-tipped paws and charged them without hesitation. Bado’s eyes darted from the beast back to his lover, frozen in fascination as a stream of incantation flowed from her lips and she stepped forward with a sweeping movement. Huge shimmering green blades of wind erupted before her and shot forth, taking the panther full in the chest with a squall of rage and pain. Its course deflected, the creature rolled in the dust once more. Cold confidence shone in Frey’s expression, giving the big former knight pause as he watched her. She seemed to have the situation well enough in hand... perhaps there was no need for him to fight, after all. These days he  _ always _ preferred to be spared the fight, anyway. 

 

Frey readied her next spell and Bado’s blue-gray eyes locked onto her with fervent interest as she spread her hands before her and a sourceless flame crackled to life between them, swirling and flashing and stirring the air with the heat of it. 

 

He had been pulled to her in a desperate desire to assist in some way—to  _ help— _ by her vulnerability, compassion, and sorrow while her relationship to Dylas had soured, but now the source of his original attraction to Frey came rushing back to Bado in the space between his adrenaline-fueled heartbeats. 

 

The power, the ferocity of her will, the absolute resolution in her stare as Frey faced down the monster that rose and charged for a third time... It had always been her indomitable nature, the spirit that could not be broken even by the loss of her entire life up until the moment she’d fallen from the sky and into the lives of Selphia’s people. And, neither could her loving heart be broken even by Dylas’ abysmal treatment of her. 

 

In Frey Bado saw the possibility for the indifferent world he’d come to know to bless him with the passion, resolve, and fervor to  _ make _ his reality. He’d believed himself broken for so many years now. But if a creature the likes of Frey could exist, who was to say what else might be possible? He wanted to believe. Not just in Frey—her power, her spirit, her love—but in himself: his own potential to  _ become _ was everything he’d once let slip through his fingers.  _ She _ brought it all back, and then some. The fiery glow in his blood as he stared, wide-eyed at the woman he adored above all was everything at once—admiration, lust, inspiration, adoration, pride, jealousy, and longing. 

 

A kind of madness took his mind. He wanted her to pour that fire into him, drawing up his own passion, so long dormant. He wanted to drown in her courage and resolve, to bask in the burning glow of her like a sprout before the sun; as likely to thrive as to wither before the radiant heat of this goddess. 

 

A second screaming bestial voice sounded in the forest and even as his body reacted, Bado had no time to move; he could only watch as the second panther sprang from the brush and smashed into Frey, its claws gripping her, fangs sinking into her shoulder. She didn’t have time to scream, only gasping wide-eyed as pain and shock caught her by surprise and she went to the forest floor beneath bloodied claws and teeth. 

 

Bado’s mind splintered. He saw red, the battlefield painted before him once more in an instant. His blade was in his hands as if it had flowed into his grip like water. He shot  forward, at once dream-like and too real to bear. He shifted his weight and leveled a mighty kick to the panther’s ribs, launching it back from Frey’s small person with a defiant roar from his deep voice. She screamed as the monster’s jaws tore free of her, raking her flesh as it went. The terrible din of her pain and fear shredded the remains of his rational mind. 

 

_ Kill... kill... kill the threat. End the battle. Protect her.  _ His will to utterly erase the existence of anything that would do her harm rose up with terrible ferocity inside him. He bared his teeth, voice a ragged snarl to match the animals he fought. His hands rigid claws wrapped around the anticipation of violence. The first monster was stumbling to its four feet, curling around broken ribs, no doubt. A sound pricked Bado’s pointed ears from behind him. 

 

He spun in place, raising his greatsword in time to intercept the second monster as it tried to pounce on him again. The panther’s jaws closed on the flat of Bado’s blade and he twisted in place, plunging the sword into the ground and flinging the creature down with it. The beast landed hard, a ‘whuff’ of air escaping its lungs on impact. It thrashed helplessly, mouth stretching wide as it fought for breath. Bado formed an iron-hard fist and slammed it down into the creature’s head with the sickening sound only flesh and bone made as it broke. The stunned beast flopped and flailed in place, disoriented, and Bado raised his keen-edged sword and plunged it through the heart of the shadow panther and into the ground with a shout of wrath. The monster’s body broke into a shimmering, trembling light, too bright to focus on, but vaguely the shape of the animal it had been moments before. Then it unraveled, long ribbons of flickering ethereal essence flitting off to rejoin the soul of the beast on the other side. Sending monsters back to the Forest of Beginnings wasn’t  _ exactly _ the same as killing them, but the violence visited upon them to accomplish it felt identical. No matter what magic had been applied to his weapon to divert them from true death, he’d always hated wielding it. He stood back from the sword spiked into the earth for a moment, panting, glaring, teeth still bared.

 

Then the huge former knight turned and faced down the remaining Shadow Panther as it finally got its legs back under it and leveled a look of pure animal rage at the pair of them. 

 

Bado’s big, squareish hand found the hilt of his blade without need of his eyes. A guttural sound grated out from behind his clenched teeth, growing into a torn-edged roar as he dashed forward. The monster leapt, claws and fangs reaching for him. Bado put on a burst of speed, the strength of his big, bulky frame pumping through his legs. He swung. The shape of the creature was cleaved in two before him. Just as before, it burst into light that shimmered in air as the traces of the thing flitted away back to the forest of beginnings. He whirled, red in the fringes of his vision, teeth clenched in a vicious snarl, eyes scanning the trees and brush for the next enemy. None came. He continued to turn in place until he’d spun a full revolution and finally looked down at Frey where she crouched, left hand clamped over the wound on her right shoulder. 

 

Her green eyes widened, pupils constricted, mouth open in a vaguely horrified expression as she stared up at him, towering over her where she crouched on the forest floor. 

 

Bado blinked, momentarily confused as he looked down at her. He’d done it; he’d protected her, anihilating the threat. His dark eyebrows furrowed. His head turned to glance over his shoulder but there was nothing there. She was looking at  _ him _ !

 

He staggered backward suddenly, the abrupt movement causing her to flinch. The sword slipped form his grasp and thumped to the ground with a muffled ‘clunk’. 

 

“I—“ He stammered, cutting off. Frey blinked rapidly and schooled her expression, burying the fear that had showed just a moment before in an instant. “You—You’re hurt.” He panted, mind beginning to race, a sick feeling rising in his gut. It was a deflection. A desperate attempt to get her talking, to smother the panic bubbling up. It was  _ him _ .  _ He  _ was the thing that had painted that horror on her beautiful face, not the monsters that had torn her skin and splattered blood on her white skirt.

 

His breathing grew faster, all but ragged gasps. He shook his head, panting. He wanted to run. This shouldn’t be happening. She was never meant to look at him like that. He’d only fought to protect her, and only once she’d seemed like she  _ needed _ help. He’d done it  _ for _ her! This wasn’t him losing his grip and snapping Dylas like a twig. They were just monsters. He hadn’t even  _ killed _ them, truly. 

 

“ _ Why are you so indignant?”  _ A horrible voice inside, like black oil, with all the hope smothered out of it jeered in a quiet hum, “ _ You finally showed her your true colors. She has every right to react according to her feelings, seeing you like this.” _

 

“It—I—wasn’t—not supposed to—“ He gasped, swaying on his feet. The world seemed to be tilting suddenly, throwing his weight sideways. He stumbled, trying to counter the sudden vertigo.

 

“ _ Not supposed to what? Did you really intend to hide your nature form her forever? Is that  _ fair? _ Is that  _ right?  _ You are a fighter, a soldier, a killer. What right have you to pretend as you do? What right to deceive her?”  _ The voice went on, whispering in a calm, sickening stream from somewhere deep inside. 

 

“Bado?! Hey! Sit down! You’re going to fall.” Frey’s voice sounded far away. Vaguely he detected her small hands gripping his arm, tugging him downward. He complied, following her touch and sinking to the forest floor. 

 

“Didn’t...” He mumbled.

 

“What?” She called, voice careful, like someone talking to a frightened animal. 

 

“Didn’t want ya t’see me like this.” He mumbled, still dizzy, still fighting to keep his mind here, now, without slipping down into the depths where that terrible voice drifted up from. 

 

“ _ Of course you didn’t... you knew what would happen... what she’d think. That look... you’ve seen it before... the face of every person who’s ever seen your  _ true _ self...”  _

 

_ “ _ No...” He breathed, burying his face in his hands, fingers digging into his scalp. 

 

“Bado?” 

 

“ _ She’s afraid of you...”  _

 

“No... No. This isn’t... this isn’t what I wanted.”

 

What was he meant to have done, simply stood by and let her be torn to pieces by the monsters? Of course he’d fought! Of  _ course _ he’d destroyed whatever would hurt her. Why, when that was the only reasonable choice in the moment of need... why was he here again: a monster... to be  _ feared _ .

 

“ _ This isn’t right _ .” He thought desperately, “ _ This isn’t  _ fair!” 

 

“ _ What is... ‘fair’? If this world was just... why would you even be here, still? All those you’ve sent to the afterlife... why would you, one man, a destroyer, live instead of them if ‘fair’ was the truth of this life?”  _

 

“Bado!” Frey’s voice, high and frightened, broke into his thoughts. He came to himself, looking into her green eyes, wide and scared, and for a moment his mind cleared. He was back in the forest, no longer slipping away into the dark. 

 

“Frey... you’re hurt.” He said, more coherently this time, eyes fixing on her bloody shoulder. 

 

“It’s nothing.”

 

“It’s not nothing to me.” He countered, looking pained. “I let this happen.” 

 

“I’m fine. See?” She waved her right hand before him, green light gathering around it, and made a slow, deliberate motion over the wound, pressing down as if to squeeze the magic directly into the wound. As her hand passed over the gashes, they vanished, leaving behind bright pink skin, as if she’d been slapped, rather than bitten and bloodied. Bado blinked stupidly at her arm, then looked back up into her eyes. 

 

“See? I’m okay.” She assured, pressing a hand to his cheek. “Are  _ you _ okay?” She added, brow fretted as she looked into his eyes. 

 

“No.” He answered, wrapping her hand in his own and squeezing it. “I... I didn’t want you to see me like that.” He repeated, looking down. “I... you—“ He bit his lip, unable to get the words out. 

 

“You just surprised me, is all. I’m okay. I’m sorry if I—“ 

 

“You were afraid.” He forced the words out with the next breath, barely voicing them. 

 

“That’s not—“

 

“I  _ saw _ it in your face.” He countered. 

 

Silence fell between them. When he looked up into her eyes once more, she was biting her lip, all but in tears; a war was clearly raging behind her emerald eyes. 

 

“It doesn’t mean what you think it means.” She said quietly, finally. He eyed her, doubt plain in his expression. Misery and shame turned the corners of his mouth downward. “I am  _ not _ afraid of you.” She insisted. “I was just surprised because I’d never seen you like that before.” He looked away, jaw tightening. 

 

“It’s not normal for monsters to get the drop on me like that. Thank you... for helping in the fight. I’m sorry you had to draw your sword to protect me.” She said quietly. 

 

Her words  _ should _ have comforted him. She understood. She didn’t hold his vicious,  _ other _ self against him. But that look... he couldn’t shake the memory of it. He just wanted to vanish into the shame of it and hide, everything in him screaming ‘ _ run _ ’. 

 

“Bado, plea—“ Frey began, begging him, but her reply stopped short, the sudden gasp on her lips snapping him out of his turmoil momentarily. He raised his head and looked around them as she grabbed at him in fear. 

 

About them in the patch of forest no less than  _ five _ more huge shadow panthers were creeping forward from the brush, teeth bared, low, confident growls emanating in a threatening chorus as they prowled assuredly toward them on all sides. 

 

“Get behind me.” Bado breathed, halfway back to the fighter inside him. 

 

“Let’s just  _ run!” _ Frey hissed, both of them holding as still as possible as they rose to crouched positions, eyes flicking from one set of eerie pale feline eyes to the next. 

 

“We can’t put our backs to these things. They’re faster.” He murmured quickly, feeling his eyes hardening, his jaw tightening. His whole body responded in a tense rush, ready to take on the threat. He located his sword in his peripheral vision, counting the distance, planning his move. 

 

“What if there are  _ more _ of them? We can’t fight forever.” She whispered urgently. The nearest of the beasts was beginning to quicken its pace, the confidence of their greater numbers making the pack forget their cautious approach to the dangerous foe. “I’ll gate us back using my magic.”

 

“Good. You go. I’ll meet you back in town” Bado growled. 

 

“I’m not  _ leaving  _ you, dummy!” She hissed. 

 

“Magic’s too risky with me.” He murmured, locking eyes with the Shadow panther that was tensing, ready to charge, mentally counting down the heartbeats until he needed to rush for his sword. “As long as you get back safe—“

 

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Frey huffed in a loud, exasperated voice. Her outburst triggered the pack. They  _ all _ rushed in at once, snarling and growling, a storm of claws and teeth and wrath. Frey wrapped her arms tightly around Bado and  _ slammed _ into his mind with her magic. He felt the briefest flash of pain and confusion. Everything tumbled for the space of one blink of his eyes, then everything went dark. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aha! Managed to keep my posting schedule for another week despite having spent all my backlog while I obsess over the new Pokémon game. (Whoopsie!) 
> 
> Poor Bado just can’t seem to catch a break. How will this affect their relationship going forward? Is there any way for him to conquer these demons and simply BE with Frey without all this turmoil? 
> 
> Next week’s chapter will be Doug and Dylas’ impromptu fishing ‘date’ hehehe. I hope you’re looking forward to it!


	32. Angling

Dylas’ heart hammered three times for every one stride of his long legs on the path to Dragon Lake. His breath puffed in front of his lips in the cold air of the oncoming winter. Leaves still clung stubbornly to the bushes beside them on the path, trembling in the breeze. His black furred ears swiveled behind, catching Doug’s panting breaths as the shorter boy trotted along behind him. 

 

“Jeeze slow down, stilts!” Doug barked from behind him. Dylas stopped short, embarrassed, and the redhead blundered right into him from behind. 

 

“Oof! Hey!” Dylas snapped, more out of reflex than anything. His ears flattened down immediately in embarrassment. “S-sorry.” He hurried to say, and began walking again, trying to shorten his stride. 

 

“It’s no big deal.” Doug said, trotting up to walk beside him now that Dylas’ pace was more moderate. They continued along the simple footpath to Dragon Lake in silence for a time. Dylas’ tail twitched to and fro. Why was he so anxious? It was just a little fishing trip. 

 

“ _Fishing with_ him _, though...”_ he thought, cheeks growing warm. “ _He’s been plenty nice to you lately. And, you_ like _him... you always have, no matter if you tried your best to deny it.”_

 

Was that true? Doug and him had fought constantly ever since his first day in town, instantly at odds over every little thing, always barking insults at one another and even brawling from time to time. For a long time he’d insisted that he hated Doug. The mere mention of the short dwarven man would send him from the room in an angry huff. But, he also could not deny that the person he’d been looking for as he scanned the crowd at every festival or at the start of the dinner rush during his shifts at Porco’s restaurant had longer ears than most... 

 

The once-guardian’s amber eyes slid sideways, stealing a glance at Doug’s pointed dwarven ears as he strode along beside him. Why _did_ dwarves and elves have long, leaf-shaped ears? Was there any difference between them and any other human’s ears, aside from the shape? He wondered idly what it would feel like to touch them. Were those pointed tips soft or rigid? Would they be warm or cool, sticking out so far from his head? As his thoughts wandered his glance turned into a stare. 

 

“Uh... Is there a bug on me, or something?” Doug finally asked, sounding a bit flustered. His silvery eyes darted about, flicking to Dylas’ face and away again. Dylas blinked rapidly, sharply turning his gaze elsewhere, jutting out his chin and putting on a glare on pure reflex. 

 

“No.” He said hurriedly. 

 

They walked another few paces before Doug broke the silence again. 

 

“It’s not polite to stare, ya know... Even if you like what’cha see.” He smirked slyly, eyeing Dylas from the corner of his vision, silver irises flashing metallically with the gray, wintery sunlight above. 

 

“Tch.” Dylas retorted, again on reflex. He felt a stab of annoyance at himself. 

 

“ _Why on earth do I have to be so prickly with the one person in this town who’s been in my corner through all the bullshit I’ve pulled recently?”_ His brow furrowed and he looked resentfully down at the pebble-strewn path beneath his feet. 

 

“Sorry.” He mumbled. “Didn’t mean to stare.” 

 

“No worries.” Doug said, smiling brightly as he looked forward. He seemed... _weirdly_ cheerful, as if this outing were a great treat, rather than a passable way to kill an afternoon. Why _was_ he so chipper, anyway? He didn’t usually _like_ fishing... Dylas knew that much. The redhead could usually be seen sulking about by the canals in town during the fishing sport festivals, looking dejectedly down at the waters surface, undisturbed as his line trailed beneath the surface. He _never_ caught _anything_... In the past, Dylas had felt smug, then puzzled, then he’d pitied Doug, sticking it out every season despite always being the number one loser at the contests. He’d once tried to give the other boy some tips, but in his usual fashion, it had ended up as an argument, their shouting voices scaring away the fish completely and irritating their fellow townsfolk. 

 

“ _We haven’t been arguing lately, though... I should try to teach him...”_ Dylas thought, sorrowful at the idea of Doug being unable to enjoy fishing. Fishing was one of the _only_ things he felt he really understood in life. The peaceful stillness and quiet of it, only the wind and water stirring around him... the life teeming beneath the surface, just out of reach but for that one thread of invitation he lowered into their world. Then, once a fish bit down on his hook, it was him against the piscine creature: Strength against strength. Will against will. He liked to eat fish, of course, but sometimes he would just catch and release, privately thanking the fish for providing him a challenge, a means to feel worthy, a chance to prove he had at least this one merit in his skill as an angler. Doug deserved that same satisfaction: the pleasure and accomplishment of a successful catch. _That_ would be his gift to the Dwarven boy for accompanying him. 

 

“Hey, um... D’you... want some tips? For fishing, I mean.” He offered hesitantly, hoping he would not be interpreted as jeering or condescending. 

 

“Sure! Gods know I could use some help. Haha!” Doug laughed aloud at his own expense, the ringing bell of his merriment sending a wave of sensation through the half-monster’s body. His knees felt weak, his head light. He’d felt the same in the days when Frey had first approached him, her persistent attention throwing him off balance at every turn. The thought brought a flush-faced, furrowed-brow expression to his features. His feelings for the dwarf walking beside him were so complicated... or at least they _seemed_ complicated... could two people who fought so much really have a chance to pair off? 

 

“ _You’re just trying to think of a reason to give up... it’s easier if you don’t have to hope, isn’t it?”_ A whisper from inside teased him, “ _It doesn’t have to be difficult, though... You_ like _him... there’s nothing complicated about that.”_ He shook his head involuntarily. It was too much to really grapple with. Not even a fortnight ago he’d thought he was _engaged_ to someone else... how could he possibly fall for someone new with all of that still gnawing at his emotions? 

 

“Having second thoughts?” Doug jibed, “I don’t blame you. I ain’t a good student.” He grinned in his wily way, sending another quiet little shiver through his companion.

 

“ _Just focus on the task at hand. Think about the rest_ later.” Dylas thought determinedly. 

 

“Nah, it was just... nothin’.” He said, putting one foot in front of the other and trying not to wonder if he could really make it through a whole afternoon without falling to pieces in the confused prison of his thoughts. The path opened up before them and the view of the lake, a tapestry of silvery grays and blues, broken by the black branches of the bare trees and the fiery cacophony of the fallen leaves, red, yellow, orange, and brown painted onto the earth. Doug stopped in his tracks for a moment as he took in the sight. 

 

“And they go on and on about cherry blossom season...” he murmured. The corner of Dylas’ mouth quirked. 

 

“Late fall is probably last on most people’s list of favorite times of year... but it has its own kind of beauty. It’s... my favorite, actually...” 

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“I’s so damn _cold,_ though!” Doug laughed. “Do you like freezing your keister off?” There was no challenge in his voice, only mischievous mirth. Dylas gave a single syllable of laughter. It felt good to hear some jibe from the other boy without immediately being on the defensive. 

 

“Yeah... I guess I must.” He chuckled, “But maybe that’s just because the hot bath after I finally get back indoors feels that much better.” Doug’s mouth clamped shut, a vivid flush coming over his features. Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned the bath. But Dylas would be lying if he said it didn’t sound rather nice, just now, especially if he and Doug together could convince Lin Fa to give the water a little extra heat again. The simple wish for a nice hot soak slipped sideways into a sudden visualization of Doug there with him in the bath, everyone else chased away by the ridiculous heat they both preferred. Just the two of them... Dylas’ ears flipped back, his mouth tightening. He blinked rapidly, trying to chase away the mental image of the other boy wading naked into the bath, wreathed in steam, pink with the heat of the water. 

 

“ _What the_ hell _is wrong with me?”_ He thought ruefully. “ _A guy can’t even be_ nice _to me and come out for a bit of fishing without my imagining him like... like...”_ He shook his head again. Blessedly, Doug didn’t pry into his fretful body language this time.

 

They reached the lakeshore and Dylas settled in his favorite spot atop a wide flat boulder, close enough to the water to cast from, but high enough they’d never get wet. This was where he’d sat waiting for Frey so many times... it had been where he was when she’d come to dump him, too... A storm of unpleasant feelings threatened to seize his mind and send him spiraling in a tumult of anxiety and shame. He steeled himself, concentrating on arranging his gear and pulling out some bait form his satchel. The feeling of the fishing line as it slid over his palms, the cold metal hook in his fingertips, the pliable give of the cheese he’d brought for bait as he molded it onto the hook. Once the physical sensations of this familiar pasttime had successfully anchored him to the present moment, a new thought gave him a modicum of comfort: 

 

“ _This place could use a new memory... a good one.”_ Today would be that memory, he hoped.

 

Doug had settled down beside him while he’d been turned inward. He was close... closer than the pair of them usually sat. The dwarf watched intently as Dylas baited both his hook and that of the second pole he’d lent to the other boy. Remembering his purpose, he did his best to arrange his words before he opened his mouth. The quiet, open landscape helped. His nerves were always calmer out here than inside some building with a bunch of other people around. Some part of him, tucked away in the back of his mind, noticed that being here with Doug felt nearly as peaceful as his usual solitude. 

 

 “Fishing might be hard to master, but it’s easy to learn the basics.” He said, his voice calm.

 

“Hasn’t been my experience.” Doug grumbled offhandedly, his gaze trailing off to the side. 

 

“Anyone ever really sat down and taught you?” Dylas asked. Doug shook his head. “Well there’s your problem.” He said, voice gaining confidence. “But that ends today. I’m gonna teach you, and I’m actually pretty darn good at this stuff.” This _was_ something he could do, something he could give. Here he wasn’t just a sorry excuse for a fool that needed everyone to interpret or explain his social ineptitude. A lively, electric energy sparked inside him, spurring him onward. It made his legs want to _run,_ his eyes to search about them, soaking up all the vivid life of the world around them. It was like waking up, like the first deep breath after a fitful sleep. He came _alive_ at the prospect, and when he turned to look at his unlikely companion, the smile he gave was as genuine as any he’d ever offered another. “You’re going to catch something today. I promise.” He said, determination in his gaze as he locked eyes with the dwarven boy, gold on silver. 

 

Doug’s face flushed, his eyes widening. He leaned back slightly, as if he found the sight and sound of Dylas’ sudden fierce confidence overwhelming. 

 

“Y-yeah?” He said, voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat and repeated, more deliberately: “Yeah? What makes you so sure.” 

 

“Call it an instinct, I guess.” Dylas shrugged. He couldn’t really explain it, after all... he just... _knew_ when it was going to be a good catch, sometimes. Ventuswill would probably have explained something about the weather, the energy or runes of the body of water you were fishing from. Dylas didn’t really understand any of that mumbo jumbo about runes. He knew his body understood, though... he was born a perfect conduit for those energies. He didn’t _need_ to understand the theory of any of it. He could just _feel_ when conditions were perfect. That was why they’d picked him as the guardian of that rune spot all those centuries ago, after all. So, he thought, looking up into the distance for a beat, that was why he was here _now_ as well. He flexed his arms, performing a graceful cast that sent his fishing line sailing over the surface of the water, plunking down a nice distance from their perch. He smiled, a quiet satisfaction his reward for the long hours of practice that had nurtured this talent. Doug had been watching him as he’d performed the motion, and now he sat up straight, looking out over the water with a bright air about him.

 

“Well, let’s give it a try then, I guess...” Doug said, shrugging as he lifted the rod, preparing to fling the line into the water below. Dylas watched the abysmal cast, the way it plunked down just a few feet away, followed by the extra line Doug had let out _after_ the weight of the hook and tackle had sprung back as it hit the end of the slack. He winced as Doug sighed, looking down with a furrowed brow at the ripples in the water. 

 

“What’s the point of throwing it out so far, anyway?” The dwarf asked, his tone not _quite_ a complaint. “I can watch the bobber better when it’s close like this.” 

 

“Well... Lots of fish are more attracted to movement. The things they eat are usually moving around, so your bait just hanging in the water like that _might_ get a bite, but it’s not going to do it for the kinds of fish that are more about _hunting_ their prey, ya know? Plus... the smell of the bait being so close to the shore like this might be harder for them to sense than if it were out in the middle of the water.” He looked thoughtfully down at Doug’s bobber for a moment, then added: “It’s not that you _can’t_ catch fish just waiting like this... but I think you’ll like a more active technique better.” He cast his eyes out farther to the place where his own line was trailing in the water, then he began to reel in his line, tugging the pole backward every few beats, visualizing the movement of the baited hook below the surface. 

 

“What does that do?” Doug asked, sounding genuinely interested, to Dylas’ surprise. 

 

“It looks a bit more like prey... smaller fish... bugs and stuff.” He continued, feeling the pull of the water’s current through the tension in the line, the extra information flowing comfortably into him as always, as if the pole and line were an extension of himself. He continued in a satisfying rhythm, reeling, tugging, watching... until at last he pulled the hook from the water and reached out to pluck it from the air before him with deft fingertips. The bait was still intact. 

 

“Didn’t work, though...” Doug said quietly, looking a little disappointed. Dylas gave a quiet little laugh, then cast again in another graceful arc. 

 

“Fishing ain’t about instant gratification.” He mused. “You have to keep trying. You have to be patient. You can’t expect a bite out of every cast.” 

 

“Patience ain’t exactly my strong suit.” Doug grumbled. 

 

“I know people talk about it like you either have it or you don’t, but in my experience patience is a _learned_ skill.” The half-monster explained thoughtfully. “Before Venti taught me how to fish I wasn’t patient with anything.” 

 

“Ventuswill taught you?” Doug replied, blinking in surprise. 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“How does she know how to use a fishing pole, though?” He asked skeptically. “Seems like you’d need... hands...” He added, looking down at his own. 

 

“Well... um, she _did_ have hands at the time...” Dylas said reluctantly. 

 

“She _what_?” Doug shot back, confusion written on his face. 

 

“I’m... not exactly sure whether I’m supposed to tell you this, but there’s some kind of... potion, I guess, that can allow her to take on a different form.” Doug stared wide-eyed at him. 

 

“You serious?” He demanded. Dylas nodded. 

 

 “She came down to the lake—this lake—way back when I was chosen to be the next guardian. She looked human then. I didn’t know who she was at first. She hid it from me so she could meet me before they... well, you know.” Doug winced. He obviously had some cursory knowledge, as everyone in Selphia did now that all four of the guardians had been revived, of the ordeal they’d been through. He probably didn’t know much about the process itself, though...

 

Dylas’ expression grew a shade darker. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell that story... not here and now, anyway. 

 

“There was... some time.” He said vaguely, “And she used it to get to know me a little. Taught me to fish. She always said I was a natural at it.” He allowed a slight smile at the memory... his first friend, and she’d been a dragon—a _god_ in disguise. “I think she used to use that form more often back in the day.” 

 

“Definitely sounds useful...” Doug agreed, “Fit inside normal buildings and all that.” 

 

“Yeah. After Amber became a guardian... I think she decided to isolate herself. Being in the shape of a human was probably not something she allowed herself to have once she got so determined to push everyone away.” His voice was quiet as he spoke the words. The sorrowful visualization formed in his mind’s eye of Venti wiling away nigh countless years in that castle, keeping everyone at a distance so no one would think to die for her ever again.

 

“ _Big, scaly idiot...”_ He thought ruefully, “ _We sacrificed ourselves so that you could_ live _, not just survive...”_

 

Doug watched him as the thoughts passed through his mind. He let him, saying nothing more as he reeled his line in slowly for a second time. Eventually, the dwarven boy pulled up his hook and prepared to try casting again. 

 

“It’s a little like throwing a ball.” Dylas explained gently, still putting great effort toward making sure his tone wasn’t rude or accusatory. Things were going pretty tolerably so far; the last thing he needed was to mess up in his usual way just because he had so much difficulty just being _nice_.

 

“Yeah? Like how?” Doug replied, looking expectantly at the half-monster. 

 

“Like... you know how you have to let go _before_ you’ve finished swinging your arm, or the thing you’re throwing won’t get any of the power of your swing? Well, you letting the line out is you letting go, and the bait and tackle is the thing you’re throwing. The pole is your arm... imagine using it to throw the hook and let the line out at the moment where you would let go.” 

 

Doug’s brow furrowed he looked down at the baited hook in the palm of his hand, everything about him speaking concentration. He tried twice without success, but didn’t betray his frustration except for a tiny grunt, almost like a growl after he pulled the line back out of the water for a third time. Then, letting out a long breath, he bit his lip, eyes narrowed, and _swung_. The line flew out, the sound of it being pulled off the opened reel like a familiar song to Dylas’ furry ears. He suppressed the grin that threatened to spread across his face as Doug’s eyes lit up in triumph. Such a simple thing... he hadn’t even had a nibble yet, but in this moment he looked as though he’d conquered the moon. 

 

“Good. Dylas said evenly. Do you wanna try pulling it in like I showed you?” Doug nodded, once again wearing that look, bent in extreme focus as he mimicked Dylas’ earlier motions with the rod, slowly reeling the line in until the hook popped back up out of the water, bare and shining. 

 

“What? Damnit. Bait’s gone!” 

 

“Oh? Maybe you had a nibble?” Dylas offered, reaching out for the hook. 

 

“I didn’t feel anything...” Doug grumbled. 

 

“It’s something you have to get used to looking for. Can’t really explain it to you. You have to learn what it feels like by experiencing it.” Dylas explained, his eyes on the hook in his fingers as he re-baited Doug’s hook.

 

“And what do I do if I _do_ feel it? Just reel it in fast?” 

 

“Well, that’s part of it but you also need to set the hook.” Dylas explained. Doug gave him a quizzical look.

 

“I thought that’s what we just did?” 

 

“Nah, ‘setting the hook’ is when you get the actual hook to poke through the fish’s mouth so you can reel it in. If you don’t do that part, it could just come back out of the fish’s mouth and you’re reeling in nothing.” 

 

“Okay. How’s it done?” 

 

“Basically you just jerk the pole back with the line tight after you feel the bite. Then you can start reeling.” 

 

“Hmm.” Doug sounded dubious.

 

“Just watch me for a bit.” Dylas offered, casting his line for a third time. His mind relaxed, despite the close proximity to his companion, and he simply felt the drag of the line through the water. Neither of them spoke. Dylas cast and reeled twice more. Doug mimicked the process a few more times beside him. Their noses turned pink in the chilly air. So too did Doug’s pointed ears. Dylas tried not to notice how cute it looked, matching his red hair. 

 

Finally, the bite came. Dylas reacted instantly, yanking the pole upward with a sharp, powerful motion. Doug gave a yelp of surprise and leaned back on the rock as Dylas returned the pole to a forty five degree angle, reeling as he did so, and jerked the rod back again for good measure. Eyes burning brightly with the excitement, the adrenaline of the moment, Dylas felt the movement of the fish, opposing it with the angle of his rod, pulling upward as soon as he felt the pressure slacken, reeling in, pulling up, reeling in. In another forty seconds or so he was lifting the fish clear of the water: a mid-sized mackerel. He smiled at it as it wriggled intermittently on the end of the line, holding it out for Doug to see. The dwarf’s eyes were wide as he blinked at the thing. 

 

“Wow... sure _looks_ easy.” He mumbled. Pleased, Dylas removed the hook and tossed the fish back into the lake with a satisfying ‘ploosh’. “Hey, what? Wha’d’ya do that for?” Doug demanded. 

 

“Not in the mood for Mackerel for dinner. And, I was honestly mostly coming out here to relax.” He explained, baiting his hook anew and casting again. 

 

“Oh... um... I hope I’m not messin’ that up for you by inviting myself out here.” Doug added, sounding chagrined. Dylas shook his head. 

 

“You’re fine. I’m glad you came, actually. It’s nice to just hang out like this together.” The words came easily. He really _did_ feel relaxed here, sharing his favorite pastime with the person he would previously have only described as a rival. 

 

“Y-yeah... I’m glad too.” Doug said, his voice a little unsteady, “Sorry it’s taken until now for us to just get along for five minutes. Heh.” Dylas gave a quiet chuckle. 

 

“Yeah... what’s up with that, anyway?” He said, for once not worried the reaction would end with a brawl. 

 

“Us fighting all the time? Not really sure.” Doug replied, shrugging. “I used to think I hated you, in the beginning, that is.” His voice was quiet, no challenge or ire whatsoever accompanying the blunt words. Dylas turned to look at him. 

 

“Me too.” 

 

“That wasn’t really it, though...” Doug continued, glancing at him briefly before he returned his gaze to the lake’s surface. Suddenly Dylas was all the more aware of his heartbeat thudding in his chest. His hands kept going through the motions: Cast, reel, repeat. But, his mind was no longer on the movement of the fishing line. His breath slowed, ears straining to focus on Doug’s every word, despite the fact they were sitting so close he could hardly have missed what he was saying. 

 

“Same...” He said simply. 

 

“I... well... After you and Frey got together, I just... it was weird, ya know? Seeing you two together all the time. It felt like you weren’t really around anymore.” Doug continued, color creeping into his cheeks. “I know all we did was fight, but... I missed it... even though it was just bickering most the time.” 

 

“Sorry...” Dylas said automatically, his ears drooping. He’d rarely thought of Doug in those early months of his and Frey’s relationship. She was all he thought about all day. But somewhere else the red-head was missing his belligerent rival, alone. Guilt gnawed at him. He knew what it was to be alone... to only have one person that seemed to see you, only to have them turn away from you. Doug shook his head. 

 

“Nah, don’t be... I was happy for you, before I knew about, well... ya know.” Dylas winced, remembering the stab of shock and pain and confusion as he’d put it all together, knowing Frey and Bado were—He shook his head sharply once to dislodge the train of thought; _that_ had ruined enough of his days without taking this from him. He would not surrender this time with Doug to the woman who didn’t even want him or his thoughts. 

 

“Still... I shouldn’t have just ignored you like I did.” Dylas said sincerely. “I’ve never been good with... ya know... people. But I want to—to get better... eventually... if possible.” 

 

“You are better.” Doug said, turning to fix him in place with those shining silver eyes. “We’re here, aren’t we? Having a nice time. You’re teaching me to fish, and I’m actually listening! We’re both getting better, I think.” He grinned. Dylas smiled too, a more modest show of happiness, but nevertheless true. 

 

“S-so... would you say were more like... friends? Now?” Dylas ventured, heart thumping hard again. Doug’s eyes widened, he opened his mouth to speak, closed it again without a word, blinked and looked away. Dylas heart began to sink. Had he assumed too much?

 

“W-well... I mean, yeah... but... I was actually thinking maybe... if you’d be open to the idea, that is...” Doug mumbled. Dylas leaned in, afraid to miss a word, already confused as to what the other boy was trying to articulate. 

 

“What? I can barely hear you.” He said. 

 

“I’m... I’m saying... I k-kinda...well, friends is good, don’t get me wrong, but—“ Doug babbled. Dylas head was full of frantic thoughts. Was Doug trying to tell him he didn’t actually want to be friends or was he saying... did he want _more_ than that? With Dylas? Dylas stared wide-eyed at the other boy, hardly even aware of the fishing pole in his hands anymore. Doug sighed loud and short, shaking his head. He looked up into Dylas face again, everything about him looking like he was perched on a brittle branch above the ground, afraid to move a hair’s breadth. 

 

“I’m tryin’ t’say I actually... I actually think you’re...” Doug trembled visibly, then with a look of surrender, finally squeaked out: “Gorgeous?” 

 

Dylas twitched visibly. His breath stopped. A ringing sound filled his ears. A dozen things clicked into place at once... Doug seeking him out, carefully prying into his turmoil, assuring him someone else would want to date him. Doug’s mysterious unrequited crush... wondering if that person liked men. Dylas explaining he had no preference between men and women. Doug throwing himself in front of Dylas to protect him from Bado, even though the smaller dwarf would be squashed by the larger one as easily as a bug under his boot. All this time... Doug had watched him on the sinking ship that was his romance with the princess, only wishing to have a chance with him. 

 

“Par-don?” Dylas rasped, throat dry, voice gone, still trying to make sense of it. What on Earth would Doug want with _him?_ At his _best_ he was passable company, not exactly belligerent. Doug smiled, a raw, terrified thing somewhere between catharsis and apology. 

 

“I-I’ve had what you might call a massive crush on you for a long time, now. The reason why it sucked to see you go around arm-in-arm with Frey was because... I wanted it to be _me...”_ Doug said, looking away, blushing as crimson as his mop of hair. 

 

“I...” Dylas began, swallowing, “I don’t understa—“ 

 

Zzzziiiiizzzzzzz! Suddenly Doug’s line was zipping out of the reel at high speed. He caught hold of the reel and the fishing pole jerked, almost pulling it right out of his grasp, the line practically humming as it was pulled taught. Doug held on tightly, trying to pull the pole backward but whatever was on the other end of the line was not about to go quietly. Another jerk of the pole pulled Doug forward, and even as he gathered his feet under him his balanced slipped; he teetered at the edge of the big flat stone, his reflection  dancing on the lake’s surface below. Any moment he would fall and be re-united with his mirror image in the water. Without thinking, Dylas reached out, grabbing hold of Doug around his middle, bracing the other boy against him and leaning backward. He scrambled to his feet, hauling Doug with him and inched backward on the boulder. They were both shouting, cursing, growling, and struggling as the force of whatever Doug had hooked threatened to overtake them. 

 

“DON’T REEL! IT’LL SNAP!” Dylas snarled through gritted teeth, his own hands helping to hold the pole. His hands were overlapping Doug’s grip on the thing. He could feel the strain and tension in the other boy as they struggled, Doug’s back pressed against Dylas’ front. 

 

“The FUCK is with this bastard??” Doug grated as he held on, white-knuckled. 

 

“Hold the pole! I’ll deal with the reel!” Dylas said frantically, guiding the direction of the thing as the monster fish pulled it to and fro, jerking it upright and reeling down to forty five degrees again and a again. They strained, snarled, grunted, and swore. It felt like _hours_ though it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes of toil. The silhouette of a huge fish, perhaps three feet long, approached them, struggling to escape with every movement. They fought it, pulling it closer. The shadow of the fish grew lighter... paler... the shining form of the creature almost— _almost_ to the boundary between water and air; then the tension released all at once an the two men fell backward as the huge fish burst out of the water and slammed down onto them. Doug’s flailing arms wrapped around the fish and the flopping, wriggling creature smacked its tail and head into their limbs, bodies and faces alternately. 

 

“GAH Stop—wiggling—you—AAUGH!” Doug squawked. They were in serious danger of flopping and flailing right off the rock and into the water. Dylas wriggled backward, hauling Doug and the struggling fish with him inch by inch until they tumbled down off the rock onto the grassy earth behind it. They just lay there, limbs wrapped around each other and the enormous, wet fish, all three of them gasping. Finally, as the fish’s movements grew more feeble, the two now soggy young men righted themselves and looked down. 

 

The huge fish that lay across their legs shone a brilliant, vivid pink, all the more colorful and absurd in its defiance of the grayish soon-to-be-winter landscape around them. Dylas’ eyes widened as he instantly recognized one of the rarest fish in Norad:

 

A _lover’s_ snapper... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OHOHO! Here it is, Doug/Dylas lovers! An extra long chapter full of your boys finally cutting to the chase.  
> I know the typical MO is to write them much more fighty-fighty than this, but in this story it’s been about 7 months since Dylas and Frey started dating and Doug and Dylas have had a long stretch of time to have their perceptions and behaviors affected by their processing of that relationship. It’s been nice to write them in a way that is largely a careful inching toward one another now that they’ve been through some shit recently. 
> 
> So, how do you think Dylas is about to react to Doug’s FIRST catch being a LOVER’s Snapper??? (I refuse to let go of the earlier, BETTER translation of ‘doki doki’ that they used before they turned the name into the abomination it is now in the western localizations of the game lolll)
> 
> As you know, this is my first time writing an extensive D/D relationship in a fic so be sure to tell me all your thoughts and impressions, especially if you’re a particular Doug/Dylas fan! I really appreciate the input! <3


	33. Fugitive

“WAUGH!” Dylas barked, scrambling backward in the grass suddenly, causing himself, Doug, and the huge lover’s snapper to flop and flail about awkwardly as he tried desperately to untangle his limbs from Doug’s. 

 

Doug’s response to this was to let go of the fish and scramble backward as well, eyes wide as they flicked back and forth between Dylas and the fish. 

 

“What? What? Is it poisonous or something?” He gasped. 

 

Dylas shook his head, covering his mouth, his thoughts racing. How could this be? _How could this be?_ He’d just started to realize his feelings for Doug... who had _just_ began to confess his feelings for him! A _lover’s snapper_ ? _Now??_ They were elusive at the best of times, even if you had all the right gear and bait and skill arranged specifically to seek out and catch them. His golden eyes locked on the fish as it flopped and wiggled on the ground. Lover’s snapper were an omen, a sign... everyone knew it going back to antiquity. To see one jump from the water foretold meeting your true love. To serve one at a wedding banquet was to bless the union, ensuring a lifelong bond. But... to catch one with yours _and_ the hands of someone who was confessing his feelings for you in that very moment... 

 

“This is crazy...” He whispered. 

 

“What’s going on with you? What’s with this fish?” Doug demanded, pointing at the large piscine creature. Dylas looked up at the red-headed dwarf with large, concerned eyes. 

 

“It’s a... it’s called a ‘lover’s snapper’.” He said, swallowing. Doug blinked at him, eyes widening slightly. 

 

“Wow, r-really?” He said, the corner of his mouth tugging into a smile. Dylas nodded. Doug burst into laughter “Damn! Get a load of that! What are the odds?” 

 

“A-astronomical...” Dylas murmured, turning red. 

 

“S-so, uh... is this a ‘yes’, then?” 

 

“A y-yes?” Dylas echoed, mind blanking. 

 

“Yeah... I kinda just... confessed to you and all... I didn’t get the chance to finish, but... will you go out with me?” 

 

Dylas stood up, running his hands through his hair, feeling both dazed and electrified at once. 

 

“This is nuts! I mean... it’s so... I can’t—“ He stumbled about, Doug’s eyes following him to and fro. He turned back to the other boy with a bewildered expression: “Me? Seriously?” Doug nodded slowly, waiting, his brows high upon his forehead. 

 

“RRAAAUGH!” Dylas shouted in frustration, jamming his fingers into his hair and ruffling it frantically. When he looked up again, the look he gave the boy who wanted him was a storm of desperate confusion. “What in the hell do you want with _me_? You know better than anyone around what a gods damned disaster I am!” Doug blinked, then smirked. 

 

“Takes one to know one, I guess.” He said, then tilted his head. “You still haven’t said yes... or no for that matter.”

 

“I—I...” Dylas sank down to his knees before the smaller man, leveling their gazes. “I’m not—you shouldn’t...” He made a frustrated sound, tilted his head back and sighed at the sky. When he righted his posture once more he felt the burning of his cheeks as if he were kneeling before a campfire, rather than a boy with fiery red hair. “I... think I like you too...” He admitted, finally. Then, eyes shifting off to the side as his brows knitted fretfully above them, he added: “But you should know better than to pick me...” 

 

“You say that... but then what do you suppose this means if that’s true?” Doug said gently, hooking a thumb at the enormous pink fish, still flopping periodically next to them. 

 

“It’s... a blessing.” Dylas said reluctantly, ears drooped down onto his head. “A blessing from the spirits... for a union.” Doug blinked, waiting, a faint little smile on his lips. Dylas sighed again, drooping, then he huffed a quiet little laugh. “Fine... there’s no good way to argue with this situation.” He raised his head, looking sheepishly at Doug. A fluttering little feeling, a spark of joy and anticipation, of just barely believing this moment were real, kindled to life inside him. “I’ll... I’ll try...” He shook himself. What kind of answer was that? Doug had shown him courage! He’d confessed without any real assurances Dylas would even hear him out. He owed it to this young man to reciprocate that courage. The once-guardian, raised again to life after having volunteered to die so long ago, drew in a breath that swelled his chest, locked his golden eyes with Doug’s silver ones and said firmly: 

 

“Yes!” 

 

Doug’s shining silver eyes grew bright and wild as a disbelieving grin stretched across his face. He threw his head back and laughed aloud, then as if he’d been stuck with a pin he jumped up and turned to the lover’s snapper.  

 

“Oh, dude! We gotta let it go!” He said, suddenly urgent. 

 

“Wha?” Dylas bleated, confused. 

 

“It’s a symbol—right?” He grunted as he wrapped arms around the fish and hoisted up against his chest. The sudden interaction spurred the almost-still fish to give another feeble effort of resistance and it wriggled in the dwarf’s grasp. “It’s—rrrghh—gotta _live!_ ” Doug gasped. 

 

A crazed little half-smile pulled on Dylas’ mouth. He clambered to his feet and seized the thing’s tail. Wordlessly, the pair of them stumbled around the boulder they’d previously been sitting on and down to the water’s edge. Their panting breaths overlapped one another as they wrestled with the spirited creature in their arms. Doug looked back at Dylas and he nodded confirmation as they neared the waterline. Then they were stumbling haphazardly into the frigid lake, splashing and cursing and laughing as the cold water soaked through their clothes. They waded in until they were waist high, and the snapper gulped in a few huge gasps of water, its gils flaring out, working hard to restore oxygen to its body. Then it gave a great shuddering pause and _burst_ into motion, toppling them both as it flailed free of them with one great surge of its whole muscled length. The pair plunged into the shocking blue water for a heartbeat, then sprang up again, gasping and cursing, and chattering their teeth. They looked at one another, grinned, and laughed aloud, wading the few feet between them and crashing together in a fierce grip. 

 

It was all so ridiculous. Doug’s arms around his chest, both of them soaked and shivering... Dylas laughed and laughed until his face hurt. 

 

“I p-promised you a c-c-catch!” He stuttered. 

 

“Ya s-sure d-did!” Doug answered, laughing as he hugged him tightly. 

 

“C’mon!” Dylas said finally, tugging his new partner toward the shore, “It’ll be a short romance if we both freeze to death out here.” 

 

“Y-yeah.” Doug agreed, teeth chattering furiously. They stumbled out of the water and scooped up their fishing poles from the ground by the boulder. 

 

“B-b-bath?” Doug asked, the whole of him looking like a drowned rat. Dylas laughed, his own pale,  sopping hair sticking to his face. 

 

“Y-eah. Let’s g-go.” 

 

Doug grasped his hand in a firm, wet grip and they half-ran all the way back to town, panting and laughing. 

 

“Oh my!” Lin Fa gasped, covering her mouth with a slender, elegant hand as they stumbled, dripping wet, into the Bell Bathhouse and Inn. 

 

“We—had—a little—mishap.” Doug gasped, wrestling a few coins from his pocket and depositing them—along with a small puddle of lake water—on the counter. 

 

“You’re going to need more than a bath.” Lin Fa said fretfully, looking the up and down over the hotel counter. Dylas blinked at her, confused. “Your clothes.” She said, gesturing to them. “What good is a bath if you have only those wet things? We’ll find something for you.” 

 

“You’re not lending them any of mine.” Leon warned from the foot of the stairway leading up to the Inn’s rooms. He eyed their clasped hands with a smug expression that was a moment later hidden behind his peacock feather fan. 

 

“You barely wear anything, anyway!” Doug shot back, squeezing Dylas’ hand even more tightly, as if in defiance. Lin Fa gave a tinkling laugh. 

 

“Oh, we have yukata for relaxing in after the bath. You’ll just have to wait a while for us to dry your things. But we have rooms enough for that.” She beamed at them. 

 

“Thanks.” Dylas said simply, pulling out a few more wet coins and adding them to Doug’s on the countertop. 

 

They hurried into the bathing room and peeled off their wet things, wringing out each piece of clothing over the drains in the floor of the tiled room and periodically lapsing into quiet laughter together. 

 

“I can’t believe we caught that fish...” Dylas wheezed, “And then _you_ let it go!” 

 

“Hey! If it was all _my_ doing, then why’re _you_ just as drenched?” Doug demanded, grinning from ear to ear. 

 

“No one’ll ever believe that story!” Dylas shook his head, laughing. “Not without the trophy.” Doug paused, looked up with another smirk and said, very pleased with himself: 

 

“Oh, I’ve got plenty to remember it by, trophy or no.” Dylas blushed and averted his eyes, but the smile on his lips stayed. 

 

When at last they had washed themselves and padded into the large bath room itself, Dylas groaned aloud as he stepped into the hot water and lowered himself down until only his head rose above the surface. 

 

“Gods...” He sighed, letting his eyes close and his ears droop. 

 

“You weren’t kidding.” Doug agreed with a hiss of breath as he joined him in the water. “It’s better after the cold.” 

 

“Told ya...” Dylas murmured, “Nothin’ better...”

 

“Well... I hope there’s _something_ better.” Doug said in a thoughtful, mischievous tone. Dylas opened his eyes and looked at him with a blush. His eyes reflexively darted downward, but the movement of the water and the herbs, mineral salts, and other additives made it difficult to see through. Suddenly embarrassed, he turned his head away, frowning. Doug chuckled. 

 

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” He said, smirking. 

 

“Well yeah, but... now...” Dylas fumbled.  

 

“I know, I know... but try not to worry so much.” He said gently. “I get the feeling we’re on equal footing here, so there’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Dylas looked sidelong at his new _boyfriend_. The thought was still so strange. 

 

“You’ve never...” He said, trialing off. Doug shook his head, blushing. 

 

“And you?” He returned. Dylas mirrored his gesture, thinking of how his anxieties had always gotten the better of him any time Frey had so much as caressed his neck or kissed him. 

 

“Yeah... thought so.” Doug murmured gently. “I’m glad, though... at least we’re in the same boat. We can figure it all out together. Dylas nodded, then looked down.

 

“I still can’t believe this...” Doug watched him for a moment, saying nothing in reply for two or three long, slow breaths in the hot, aromatic bath. 

 

“Well... you’ve got time to get used to it. I’m not going anywhere.” He moved, and beneath the water his fingertips found Dylas’ arm, trailed down them in a touch that made the half-monster tremble despite the heat of the bath and the heat in his cheeks. That seeking hand found his and wove Doug’s fingers between his own, settling into a comfortable grip and squeezing gently. Dylas looked down at the water’s rippling surface, his eyes soft. Then, even though it made his fingers and toes feel tingly and the butterflies in his stomach go wild, he squeezed back. 

  
  


* * * * * 

 

The frame of Frey’s bed creaked in a loud—almost startled—squall of protest as both she and her very large, unconscious boyfriend landed in an unceremonious heap atop the mattress heralded by a flash of light no one was there to see. 

 

“Oof!” Frey heard herself exhale sharply as her weight thumped down on Bado’s chest, chasing the air from her lungs. She scrambled herself half-upright and shifted her weight, propping herself up on one arm so her opposite hand could search out the still, serene face of her lover. 

 

“Bado?” She called, quiet yet urgent. No response, his breath came slow and quiet but not once inch of his tremendous person stirred. She called his name again, caressed his cheek, pressed her palm to his forehead, pleaded, and prodded, and pushed down the panic that threatened to rise in her throat. She didn’t know the exact mechanics of Bado’s resistance to magic but it couldn’t be good for him to be knocked out cold by her brute-forcing spells on him.

 

The princess clambered off of her bed, skittered to her bathroom in the extensive suite allotted for her in the castle, and returned in a flash with a cold, damp cloth. She pressed it to Bado’s forehead, fretting over the enormous man, who by all appearances was simply having a rather comfortable nap on her bed.

 

Last time he’d awoken mere seconds later. How long was it going to take this time? She chewed her lip, worry gnawing at her heart in turn. Had she done some kind of damage to him by breaking through his resistance again? Before he’d shown no sign it had affected him by the next day. Would this time be different? Had she injured him somehow by foisting her magic on his incompatible physiology? The princess of Selphia sighed, a quiet whine of anxiety sealed behind her lips as she perched at the edge of the bed, looking down at the peaceful face of her boyfriend and trying to process what had happened. 

 

That look... that _fury_ . Frey had told herself again and again that she _knew_ this man she’d been in such a rush to entangle herself with but still she’d been taken off guard when she’d finally seen his other side. 

 

He’d warned her—or _tried_ to, anyway... Had she listened? Of course not. She’d been so determined that this relationship should be _fine_ . Bado had been the one to offer her compassion, understanding, support. Why _shouldn’t_ this new romantic foray go swimmingly? 

 

“ _For all the reasons he’s voiced, and_ you _smothered...”_ a sad, nervous voice inside mumbled. She worried her lower lip between her teeth, eyes burning. Was it so wrong to _want_ this to work as desperately as she did? Bado was a good man. He deserved to be happy, just as she did. He’d _earned_ her trust and esteem. But... did she deserve _his?_ She’d promised to respect his perspective, but when push came to shove, she’d simply overridden his will through sheer force. 

 

What would he have to say about her sudden abduction of his person via magic? Had she finally exhausted the incredible well of patience in him with this stunt? There was no way to know until he woke, so Frey waited and worried over his still form, watching his chest rise and fall so slowly, holding fast with a careful stillness of her own, suspended in anticipation. 

 

There was no way to know just how much time passed. None of her servants disrupted her vigil. The light filtering down from the high windows of the castle’s lofty architecture rose and fell as clouds passed overhead, denying her any clue as to the passing of the day. It could have been minutes or hours; she could not say. When finally he drew a longer, deeper pull of air and his eyes fluttered open, Frey’s anxiety for her partner eclipsed the sense of waiting utterly. 

 

“Bado...” She breathed, suspended in the long moment before his reaction to the situation was revealed to her. 

 

“Uhhhnnnn....” He groaned softly, brow furrowing as a wince traveling across his face. “Wha...” 

 

Frey hovered over him, one hand planted beside his head on the pillow as she crawled toward the headboard to align her eyes with his. 

 

“Bado... you’re in my room at the castle. I brought us back here by magic.” She said quickly. He blinked, eyes unfocused, everything about him sluggish and confused. 

 

“Frey...” He mumbled, voice a dry brush of sound, lacking the usual resonant tone of his speech. Slowly, recognition came into his eyes and he blinked rapidly, brow furrowing. 

 

“Are you alright?” She asked, sitting back as he began to prop himself up, looking around. As he took in their surroundings his expression became strained, jaw tight, eyes widening, the lines around his mouth and eyes cutting deeper than usual. 

 

“No...” He growled, hauling himself off of her bed and into a standing position. She slid down off the bed too, her feet padding quietly to the floor, worried eyes on his back as he paced to the other end of the room and stopped, one hand rising up to cover his mouth. 

 

“Bado,” She said gently, “I’m sorry.” He spun around in place, giving her a look all at once confused, angry, and sad. 

 

“Why’n Earth‘re _you_ sorry?” He asked, voice still rough. She blinked in confusion at him. 

 

“I... knocked you out again... because I used magic on you.” She said slowly, mirroring his bewilderment. He shook his head. 

 

“Nah... that ain’t—“ He winced. “I get why ya did it. I ain’t upset with _you_.” He sighed, fidgeting, pacing, biting his lip; the big man showed every evidence of anxiety as the silence between them stretched out. 

 

“Bado...” Frey said gently, almost as if he were glass, “It’s alright... I’m not upset with you either.” The pained look he leveled at her, as if he wanted nothing more than to shout his protest, wrenched her heart. 

 

“It’s _not_ alright—“ He said breathlessly, pacing halfway across the room and back, looking more and more like a wolf in a cage by the moment. “I didn’t—“ He ran his hands through his hair, mussing it to the point his disheveled appearance matched his state of mind. He opened his mouth for another abortive attempt at speech, swallowed, and rallied himself, finally: “I scared ya. I know I did, so don’t tell me otherwise. I saw it in yer face.” 

 

“Sure, I was startled, but—“ 

 

“I don’t want to _be_ someone—some _thing—_ that you have to _fear_ , Frey... what kinda lover does that make me, huh? It ain’t right!” The halting, angular movements of his person as he grew more and more ruffled brought a burning sensation to Frey’s eyes as she looked at the man she’d grown to love in such a short space of time, wanting nothing more than to comfort him. She rose and took a step toward the big man. 

 

“You _aren’t!_ One _moment_ of fear doesn’t say anything so drastic about us, Bado!” She pleaded, raising her arms a little as she moved across the room, itching to bind him in her embrace and _prove_ she wanted to be as near to him as possible. “I’m _not_ afraid of you!” He focused on her as she approached, raised his own hands palms up and backed away, face anguished. 

 

“S-stop... just... I don’ feel right... I need ta... I gotta go.” He panted, walking backward until he neared the back door that opened out onto the fields north of her rooms at the castle. Throwing her one last look full of distress, he turned and passed through the doorway. As he disappeared into the cold autumn air Frey’s hands fell to her sides. Tears fell in parallel, dotting the stone floor beneath her. 

 

* * * * * 

 

Bado’s panting breaths puffed before him in clouds of vapor, the sound just out of rhythm with the crunch of his big boots on the half-frozen earth below. His thoughts chased each other back and forth in his head, one moment driving him to the brink of panic, the next threatening to drag him down into a crushing melancholy. 

 

“ _She was terrified!”_

 

_“I’m a monster...”_

 

_“What else was I supposed to do?”_

 

_“She said she isn’t afraid of me...”_

 

_“I’m not fit to be the guy she depends on.”_

 

_“I walked out on her. What if she’s angry with me now?”_

 

No matter which thought flitted to the front of his mind from one moment to the next, he couldn’t quite catch hold of any of them. Pain, fear, rejection, disappointment, uncertainty: a wild storm of emotion roiled within him, flaring up with each successive thought. He hadn’t known what to say, what to do. He’d only known he had to leave, to get out before the sight of the woman he loved drove him to break down completely. 

 

The image... the image of her fearful expression stayed through all of it, like it had been painted on the backs of his eyelids. He couldn’t shake it off. It was the everything he’d feared when he’d agreed to date her: his darkness chasing the love from her gaze, replacing it with that look... eyes wide and shocked, lips parted, their corners turned down... horror dawning in her beautiful features. It stabbed at him, some part of his worst self jeering: 

 

_‘Told you.. told you she would hate you when she finally saw it...”_

 

Through it all he frantically concentrated on the sound of his breathing, the feeling of the cold air against his face, nipping at his ears. His eyes searched northward, then east as he rounded the corner onto airship way. He had just one hint, one clue as to what he could do to rectify this terrible reality, the one he’d feared, the one that had come to be. A few minutes later he hesitated before the large decorated facade of Porcoline’s restaurant, out of breath and trembling. 

 

“ _Ventuswill said you could help... I just hope she’s right.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m pretty pleased with Doug and Dylas finally getting together and I feel like this scene had a good combination of playfulness, heartfelt feelings, and memorable moments with them. 
> 
> On the other side of things I promise I’m almost done torturing Bado and Frey lol. I swear good things are on the way for them. 
> 
> Let me know what you think of Dylas and Doug’s first afternoon together as a couple in the comments and what you think Porcoline will have to say to Bado. I’m very curious about your impressions!
> 
> Thanks for reading, as always!


	34. The Counselor

Porcoline de Sainte Coquille, master chef, gastronomist, member of the wealthiest family in Norad, and _glorious_ specimen of beauty and magnificence, chopped onions and peppers with a song on his lips. He hummed, danced, and crooned to his ingredients as he sliced and diced, only eating about a third of them as he worked. Meggie would be so _proud_ of his restraint! 

 

He tossed them in oil with deft motions of his plump, bejewels fingers and let them tumble into the hot wok before him on the stove. He’d tried his ‘fring’ experiment some weeks ago... but in the end he couldn’t bear to always see that fried onion ring about his finger and had eaten it within the half hour after he’d declared the experiment a success. Now he wore only his usual array of ordinary, non-edible jewelry. It was just as well, he mused, shrugging to himself: someone as gorgeous as himself shouldn’t go about with greasy, oily fingers after all.

 

Today, today, same as every day; Porco ate, cooked, ate, cooked some more, chatted up his diners, ate, and cooked. He reveled in the life he’d chosen. He _delighted_ in the simple pleasure of using both his natural charisma and his honed skills at cooking to bring joy to the hearts and faces of his patrons. The wonderful, nay, _magical_ ability of good food, atmosphere, and some friendly conversation to soothe and warm the hearts of people of all walks of life was a thing he was _always_ eager to bestow upon everyone he met.  

 

“Order up, Porco!” Meg chimed as she deposited a small paper sheet on the counter. He plucked it up with a sing-song ‘thank you’, read the order, and let it flutter down into the waste bin he kept for the purpose. He may not have been the _smartest_ man to walk the earth—though he was perhaps not _too_ far fro the top of that list—but he’d always been able to remember _everything_. 

 

A new song began to play in his mind. He took up the melody, a bounding, excited thing with such _drama_ about it, and proceeded to chop the next set of ingredients, reaching to toss the stir-fry in progress without looking from time to time. 

 

It was the dinner hour, or the very beginning of it anyway, and the orders were beginning to pick up. So, it should not have given him pause when a cheerful jingle of the restaurant’s door hung with silvery bells announced the arrival of another diner in their midst. But, as he had turned to sing a fanciful greeting at the newcomer, his music caught in his throat. The person who stepped uncertainly into the dining parlor was a face quite familiar to Porco and yet the rotund gastronomist could not remember when last the tall dwarven blacksmith had come through that door for a meal. 

 

Porco blinked rapidly, looking for a moment perhaps as if he did not know what to do with this particular member of Selphia’s citizenry. In fact, he _did_ know exactly how he wished to greet Bado on whatever special occasion had brought him to Porcoline’s kitchen. 

 

“OOOhohohoooo!” He squealed delightedly “What a _marvelous_ surprise! I do not know how long it’s been since I’ve cooked for you! Why do you come so rarely, my friend? 

 

Bado looked as uncomfortable as a man could, thought Porco, as he shuffled across the room with his shoulders rounded and his head ducked as if he were concerned about a bird swooping down on him. Of course, a man his size would always look a little out of place in the businesses and rooms arranged for persons of more average stature, the chef supposed. 

 

“Uh... hey.” Bado’s basso voice was quiet, almost hushed as he approached the kitchen counter. 

 

“Oh dear! You look so very _wilted!”_ Porco tutted, “Is there something I can make to cure you of this dour mood you’re in?”

 

“Nah, I—actually I just need to talk t’ya.” The huge man mumbled, hands fidgeting before him on the counter, eyes averted. 

 

“I see, I see! What shall we talk about, mon amie?” Porco inquired, flourishing the wooden spoon and giving the man a dazzling smile. The glittering cheerfulness he flung at his guest had no effect, though. Bado sighed fretfully, looking over his shoulder. Porco deflated a little. 

 

“It’s kinda—well... maybe not out here with everyone...” The blacksmith pleaded quietly, leaning over the counter. Porcoline’s perfectly groomed eyebrows climbed high upon his head over his wide, watery blue eyes. So, the dwarven blacksmith had come to confide some secret, some private matter, to him? Very well! He was always happy to lend an ear over a meal to a fellow citizen, even if that citizen was a little estranged from himself. 

 

“Of course, darling!” Porco gushed, his generous spirit overflowing from within him, “But just now I have so many guests who’s bellies need filling. I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to wait until the orders are filled.” Bado shrank a little further, an odd accomplishment for one so tall and broad, but he nodded his acquiescence and began to turn away. 

 

“Uh... alright, then... I’ll just—“ 

 

“Have a seat at the bar, won’t you? Porco chimed, gesturing to the counter to draw the big man’s attention underneath. Bado’s gaze followed his pointing hand and he drew out the tall bar stool and seated himself on it, leaning his elbows upon the counter and watching Porco work. The portly chef continued his elegant dance around the perfectly familiar, custom built kitchen that was his throne room, his alter. He hummed happily as he worked, dashing spices and sauces into simmering, sizzling, and bubbling pots and pans on the stovetop as well as plucking and peeling and chopping vegetables and fruits of every description and adding them to the various dishes in progress. Bado watched him silently, the whole appearance of the dwarven man looking as if he were sitting in a shadow; there was some kind of _darkness_ about him... though Porco suspected it was largely the making of his downcast spirits. Meg came by to collect a platter and Porco patted her dainty hand as she reached across the counter, grinning brightly at her as he spoke: 

 

“Meg, my dear, would you be so good as to pour this gentleman a relaxtea when you have a moment?” She gave Bado the barest glance and smiled—only at Porco—as she chimed her reply: 

 

“Sure, Porco!” Her body language carefully turned away from the blacksmith, the beautiful elven maiden strode to the table of the customer who had ordered the plate in her hands. Porco observed as Bado watched her go, sighing and closing his posture a little more, trying in vain to disappear, despite the fact he was easily the largest person in the room. 

 

He knew, of course, what her complaint would be of the big man. Meggie was furious with Dylas for hurting Frey, that much was sure, but she loved the half-monster boy like a brother, so of course she would scold and punish him for his transgression. This was something different: Meg had no attachment whatsoever to the blacksmith. On the contrary, she knew what had bloomed between himself and princess Frey _before_ she and Dylas had properly ended their relationship. And by all appearances, Meg had decided already what she thought of Bado based on the role he’d recently played in Dylas’ sufferings. 

 

“Sorry for imposin’.” Bado mumbled. 

 

“Not at all!” Porco insisted with a flourish. “You are always welcome here.” But, when Meg returned she made a point to say nothing as she set down the steaming mug of tea, not so close to him as to be conveniently to hand, and turned on her heel without so much as a glance in his direction. Porco ‘tsked’ with an apologetic expression. It wasn’t exactly belligerent behavior. He’d seen worse from his ward when she thought herself in the right, but it was still a very pointedly cold attitude she had aimed at the big blacksmith. 

 

“S’nothin’.” Bado mumbled, reaching out a thick arm to collect the cup and move it closer to him. He sighed over the steaming tea, big hands fidgeting with the looped ceramic handle, and chewed his lip. Porco reflected as he watched the large man squirm in place while he waited: this whole business must have to do with the recent drama unfolding with himself, Princess Frey, and Dylas. Oh yes, there was scarcely a pickled plum’s chance in Porco’s pocket that it was unrelated to all of that. The strange part was that he’d come _here_. Something had got the ex-knight thoroughly ruffled and Porcoline was the person he sought out... most peculiar. Not because Porco was anything less than a princely companion full of compassion and generous sympathy, but rather because it was not the blacksmith’s habit to seek out his counsel, or even his cooking! It was all very odd and Porco had thought so for some time, but he could not deny that this visit was a rather unusual one. Oh well, nothing to do but wait, even if his curiosity growled within him like an empty belly hungry for intrigue. Soon enough Bado would tell him what had put him out of temper. He certainly seemed eager enough for the audience. 

 

 Porco turned back around and pulled a new set of ingredients from the fridge: freshly caught shrimp, a cold creamy tempura batter, and some fresh vegetables suitable for frying. He poured oil into one pan, and water into another. A big scoop of rice went into the pot of water, followed by a lid. He left it to boil and quickly sliced the vegetables and prepped the shrimp. Lost in his own thoughts, Bado did not seem to notice that this dish had not followed an order. The big man’s blue-gray eyes, slightly metallic in their reflective sheen, followed Porcoline’s hands as they dipped, fried, and arranged the tempura, finally nestling the things neatly on the top of a steaming bowl of fresh, dazzlingly white rice. But, he made no comment—not one word!—until Porco placed the bowl immediately before him with a wink and a grin that would have charmed birds from the trees. 

 

“I didn’t—you don’t hafta...” Bado stumbled, swallowing as he looked from the dish to Porcoline. It was one of his _most_ favorites. Porco knew, of course. He made it his _business_ to know, even if the blacksmith had rarely come of his own accord to give the chef his patronage. 

 

“Oh the house, mon amie!” Porco gushed with a wave of his hand. “To make the wait a little more comfortable.” He winked again, passing a silverware set wrapped in a cloth napkin into the blacksmith’s big, angular hand.

 

“A-alright... thank you.” Bado said in the low rumble of his deep voice, ducking his head a little as he accepted the thing. Porco bent a sympathetic brow as he watched the man. Usually Bado was a trickster, a baffling man with a fixation on schemes and sales. Before that he’d been a warrior, silent and stoic and fierce whenever there was call to be. Now, however, he looked as meek and dejected as Porco had ever seen. Porco smirked to himself, watching the big man pick at the food listlessly. When at last he brought a forkful of it to his mouth, the master chef watched from the corner of his sparkling eyes, holding his breath. Bado blinked, frozen for a beat, then chewed slowly, his dark eyebrows lifting up a bit. He took another bite, and finally had a sip of the relaxtea. Some of the tension in his shoulders loosened, and he drooped less and less, his pointed ears rising to their usual height, sticking out perpendicular to his head from his dark, ruffled hair. He ate the food steadily and drank the tea down to the leaves, wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin he’d been given, and sighed quietly, assuming a casual, relaxed posture and looking around the restaurant with a much calmer air that before. Porcoline smiled broadly to himself, his back to the blacksmith now as he continued cooking. 

 

“That was pretty damn good.” He said. “Thanks again.” 

 

Porcoline giggled, his satisfaction evident in every convex angle of his rotund person. 

 

“You are most welcome, good sir.” 

 

Porco ordered another cup of tea for his guest and finished cooking all the rest of the diner’s orders. It wasn’t a particularly busy evening at the restaurant, but it still took another two hours to finish. Bado sat patiently all the while, watching the patrons come and go as well as Porcoline’s efforts in the kitchen. He wasn’t exactly cheerful, but his melancholy aura no longer had the desperate, troubled aspect that had been so marked in his body language when he’d first arrived. 

 

When finally the last customer had paid and left, Porcoline finished preparing one last huge dish—his own supper—and pulled up a stool across the counter from Bado. He sat down, tucked a napkin into his collar, pulled his plate close before him and picked up his fork. 

 

“Now then, my patient friend: what did you want so much to talk to me about? 

 

* * * * * 

Dylas sighed quietly to himself as he listened to Doug’s rambling conversation with a slight smile on his lips. They walked side by side down the long stretch of airship way that would take them from the Bell to Porcoline’s restaurant. They would have held hands if they hadn’t needed them to carry their fishing gear. At least their clothing was clean and dry. Lin Fa had cajoled Leon into using his magic to help dry out their things after she had washed them while Doug and Dylas had quietly enjoyed a long, relaxing soak together in the bath. It had still taken about an hour, so she’d offered them yukata to wear and a room to relax in while they waited. It was more than either of them would have expected, but a very welcome favor nonetheless. They’d talked the entire time, and continued to do so while walking back across town. Every little thing that came to mind became a conversation, and though Doug did more of the chatting than Dylas, the once-guardian found the exchange perfectly comfortable. They still bickered and argued, but it was a familiar, playful thing now; no real anger or challenge touched their voices as they bantered back and forth, and Dylas could scarcely remember the last time he’d felt so glad. A few days ago he’d never have believed he would ever again be capable of feeling as light and content as he did now. 

 

When they finally reached the restaurant, Dylas insisted they enter on the east side of the building rather than the restaurant proper. Sure, Arthur might be found working his usual long hours in the office, but the prince was less likely to make a scene once he saw Doug and Dylas together as boyfriends. 

 

“Thanks... for everything.” Dylas said sheepishly as they said their goodbyes for tonight. Doug beamed at him. 

 

“You too. I can’t believe I finally caught a fish! Hahaha!” 

 

“I think it’s fair to say that _we_ caught that fish.” Dylas countered with a smirk. 

 

“Fine fine, but still! I’d like to try again, hopefully without getting so wet next time.” The small dwarven man grinned expectantly up at the half monster. Dylas tail swished behind him as he blushed, looking down into that hopeful expression with those silver eyes glinting at him.

 

“For sure.” He said, ears swiveling back, part embarrassed, but mostly pleased. Frey was good at fishing but she only used it as a means to get the fish. She’d never sat beside him at the lake for a whole afternoon just feeling the world around them and enjoying the quiet. To have someone—not just anyone, but Doug!—participating in his favorite hobby _with_ him while being as present and attentive as he’d been... if this was what having a boyfriend was like, he could certainly get used to it. 

 

They hugged, blushing furiously and bid each other farewells in awkward, fidgety motions. Dylas passed through the doorway to Porco’s study—and Arthur’s office—and climbed the stairs to his room. 

 

He put away his fishing gear and changed into pajamas, suddenly feeling rather tired after the day’s events. Unlike all his fatigue of late, however, there was nothing lonely or morose about his drooping posture and sluggish movements. He may have been tired but his heart was full. 

 

Unfortunately his _stomach_ was _not_ and so he shuffled down the hall toward the other stairway that led to the restaurant where he might make a simple dinner for himself now that the dining hours were coming to a close. 

 

He began to plod down the stairs, yawning again, but stopped short before the stairway opened up into the room below. A voice was speaking quietly from down there, the deep basso timber of it touching his bestial ears faintly. He knew this voice. Fear bubbled up in Dylas’ gut and he crouched down upon the stairs where he was certain to be out of sight. 

 

What in the hell was Bado doing here after restaurant hours talking to Porcoline? Dylas’ black furred ears swiveled toward the sound of the blacksmith’s voice. He quieted his breathing and listened, curiosity overcoming the anxiety he’d felt at first now that he recognized the words the blacksmith was speaking. 

 

* * * * * 

“This ain’t easy to talk about, but uh... well, Lady Ventuswill says you can help me, so here I am... giving it a try.” Bado said hesitantly, watching the red-haired chef’s facial expression as he spoke. He’d never had any particular relationship to Porcoline De Sainte Coquille, so he wasn’t exactly confident he knew how this conversation would go. Hell, if the Divine Wind hadn’t insisted he try unburdening himself to Porcoline, it never would have occurred to him. The flamboyant man before him watched Bado’s face in turn with glittering, intent eyes as he waited for him to elaborate, all the while devouring the huge platter of stir-fried vegetables and fish he’d prepared for himself at a startling pace. 

 

“It has to do with me an’ Frey.” Bado continued, still slow and stiff in his speech. He wasn’t used to talking so frankly about such personal matters, especially with someone none too close to him. Porcoline nodded wisely, a burning interest flickering in his blue, blue eyes. “I... guess you already know we’re together...” Bado said hesitantly. Porco nodded again, still eating, still waiting for him to complete his explanation. The blacksmith sighed, running a hand through his dark hair and ruffling it even beyond its usual disheveled state. 

 

“Look, uh...” he began, his insides twisting about inside him. He _hated_ talking about his past, no matter who he was talking to, but bringing it up out of the blue like this was an extra level of uncomfortable. “How much do you know about me? I mean, the old me...” 

 

“Enough, I dare say.” Porcoline said, his tone far from unkind. “You will remember, no doubt, that moi was present when you first came to this town at Tristan’s right hand?” 

 

“Yeah...” Bado agreed, rubbing at the back of his neck. Usually he did a pretty good job of forgetting that these people remembered the wreck he had been back then, given their usual tendency to treat him only as the mischievous, sometimes troublesome person he’d become as their wayward shopkeeper nowadays. “Well... I need to know how to get free of the man I used to be... for good, this time.” He said, looking up into Porcoline’s bright blue eyes with resolve. 

 

“And why do you want to do that?” Porco asked calmly, showing no particular surprise at any of this. Presently he was scraping up the last bits of sauce from the plate with the side of his fork and carefully licking it clean. 

 

“I... just wanna be good t’her, ya know? I tried to talk her outta bein’ with me a few times. She deserves the best, and... I know I ain’t exactly a catch. More than that, I know I’m probably more trouble than I’m worth. But, she wouldn’t hear of it. And, well... it ain’t easy to argue with the girl you like when she’s insistin’ she wants t’be your lover.” Bado blushed, his ears growing hot. He kept his eyes fixed on the mug of tea, now empty, rather than see Porcoline’s reaction to that particular confession. “But... I’m always worried these days. I didn’t think the old me would come out like ‘e did when Dylas hit’er. And now it feels like ‘e could come back any ol’ time. I don’t wanna be that guy anymore, no matter what happens.” He sighed, picking up the cup and turning it over in his hands to give him something to look at while he spoke. “Today... she saw ‘im... and she looked scared.” He swallowed, his voice rough as he said this last part. 

 

“What happened today to make you assume that persona once more?” Porco asked calmly, leaning on his folded arms upon the countertop, one hand festooned with jeweled rings rising up in an elegant gesture before his mouth. Bado hesitated a moment, somewhat impressed at the chef’s poise. Usually Porco was the least serious creature one could hope to find in Selphia. Right now, however, he had assumed a more dignified air, even if the overall ridiculousness of his personality hadn’t _quite_ left the room. 

 

“We were out in the woods—treasure hunting, y‘understand—“ he added hastily, determined not to give the impression that he and the princess had gone out of sight of the townsfolk to get up to some indecent mischief together. “And we got attacked by a bunch of monsters. Real aggressive, and more of them than there should have been out there, especially in the daytime. It was weird, now that I think on it...” he added with furrowed brow. “A-anyway... At first it seemed like she had ‘em all handled, but then we got ambushed by more of the damn things and she got hurt. After that I just lost it... went right back to the fighter as soon as I needed him. But... when I looked back at her she was lookin’ at me like _I_ was one of those monsters or somethin’” He sighed. “It really shook me up. I been worried all along that my old self is gonna cause problems... maybe even hurt her somehow. So, I’m here t’ask for advice. Ventuswill seems to think you’ll have the answers, so... I came to find out.” He looked up into the chef’s face again as he said this last. “Can ya help me?” he added, a little bit of pleading coming into his voice and expression. 

 

Porcoline looked thoughtfully at Bado, tilting his head and considering his guest for a long moment. 

 

“What am I to help you with, exactly?” He asked. Bado blinked at him, bewildered. 

 

“I... dunno, exactly. Maybe you know a good way I can finally be rid of my past self?” 

 

“You wish to slay the man you were before?” 

 

“Uh, yeah, I guess so if it’ll keep Frey safe and make it so she doesn’t have to be afraid o’ me.” He said, shrugging. Porco shook his head sadly. 

 

“Tsk tsk tsk...” He sighed, “That is just the opposite of what you need, though!” 

 

“It—what?” Bado echoed, confusion obvious in his face and voice. Porco nodded gravely, and before Bado knew it the plump chef had scooped up one of his big angular hands in his thick, bejeweled fingers and patted it with the opposite hand in. Conciliatory fashion. Bado felt his pointed ears tip down and his face flush with embarrassment. He pulled against the man’s grip but Porcoline held fast, staring intently with blazing stars in his watery blue eyes. 

 

“Er...” Bado said awkwardly, still attempting to tug his hand away without being too dramatic about it. He had come to ask for this highly eccentric gentleman’s assistance, after all. It would be rather rude to make a scene, but _still_... The big dwarven man squirmed in place as Porco waited silently. When finally he forced himself to still and meet Porcoline’s gaze, the chef opened his huge mouth once more and spoke in passionate tones: 

 

“Doing violence to your other self will not help in the least, Monsieur Dramhau.” He insisted, “You must _love_ him, instead!” 

 

“What?!” Bado barked, flinching at the volume of his own outburst and glancing around, embarrassed immediately. There was no one else in the restaurant to be offended by now. All the customers had gone and Meg had run off at the earliest opportunity, eager to be gone from his company, no doubt. Porcoline resumed his pitying expression and patted Bado’s hand again. This time the blacksmith really did pull his captured limb away with a more vigorous effort, so that Porco had to release him or engage in a test of strength. “The hell are you talkin’ about?” Bado hissed, glancing about again on pure reflex. 

 

“Your anxieties are all about doing harm to others, no?” Porcoline challenged, pointing a finger at Bado. 

 

“Yeah, but—“

 

“So _what in heaven’s name_ would make you think doing harm to yourself would solve this?” 

 

“I ain’t—look, I _like_ who I’been these past few years!” Bado protested, “It’s certainly better’n before, so what’s the matter with wantin’ to get rid of that part o’ me I been doin’ my best to forget?” 

 

“You do not understand, mon amie!” Porco sighed, “He  is not some separate person trapped inside you, no matter that you might feel that he is. The Legendary Knight _is_ you, Bado Dramhau.” 

 

Bado winced, a nasty sinking feeling stealing his breath as he heard the words. This was what he’d feared: that somewhere deep inside he was truly that killer, that monster... 

 

“And even if you have changed and you no longer wish to be as you were before, you should still love and value who you were back then.” 

 

“An’ why the hell would I do that?” Bado grumbled, “All I added to the world was pain and fear back then.” Porco tilted his head. 

 

“I do not believe that.” He said, smiling slyly. 

 

“Wha’d’ya mean?” 

 

“By all accounts your support of the beloved Knight Captain Tristan was instrumental in furthering his campaign and protecting his esteemed person. You saved his life on more than one occasion, yes?” 

 

“Yeah, an’ he saved me a bunch o’ times, too. What about it?” 

 

“I can hardly begin to believe that the world, especially for two young people you and I both know, would have been better off if you had not been there to protect him.” 

 

Bado huffed a derisive little snort. 

 

“An’ does that make up for all the people I hurt an’ killed?” Porco shook his head. 

 

“You cannot weigh one life against another. Arithmetic breaks down quite rapidly when morality enters the picture. What I am saying is: there are many things that we value about the world today that we owe to our younger selves.”

 

“Didn’t feel like I made a difference when he died...” Bado said darkly, looking away. 

 

“Understandably, but consider this: Kiel might never have met his father had you not been there. And, even though Tristan’s life was cut short sooner than should have been in the end, _you_ were there to support and watch over his children.” 

 

Bado looked sadly at a basket of silverware on the kitchen counter, saying nothing. Memories of that time in his life were particularly painful... The people he’d come to rely on had disappeared from his life, and the children they’d brought into the world now had no one but him to turn to. He’d _had_ to be better than he was... for them. If he was going to be the rock they clung to in the river’s current, he had to be strong in a way that had nothing to do with fighting. He rubbed a big hand over his eyes, sighing. 

 

“What’s all this got to do with my problems today?” He said, almost grimacing at how exhausted and defeated his own voice sounded.

 

“Well, by your own account our princess seems to admire you most fervently, no?” 

 

“You could say that, yeah...” he admitted, ears turning pink again. 

 

“And you would not be here today if the man you were before had not played his part. If he had not fought and bled and persisted through all the hardships of your youth... there would have been no one for Frey to turn to as she turned to you... is that not so?” 

 

“How’d you know—“ Bado accused suddenly, cutting off as Porco chuckled quietly to himself. 

 

“It wasn’t hard to work out. You are a little less secretive than you think with your feelings. I have seen the way you watch her at the festivals—oh, yes! Porco always knows when love is in the air!” He giggled with a downright obscene self-satisfaction. “I imagine that when our poor, clumsy Dylas hurt her that day in your workshop you could not help but comfort her. Am I correct?” 

 

Bado rubbed at the back of his neck. 

 

“Y-yeah, I might’a... just a little, though. I jus’ told her t’look out for herself, that’s all... wasn’t comin’ onto her or nothin’...” He explained, refusing to make eye contact.

 

“And after that?” 

 

“She—-she kept comin’ back... seemed like every day I’d end up talkin’ her through the next damn thing he did to her. She cried so often... every time I saw her...” Bado said quietly, letting the memories flow into his speech. Hell, he was in for a penny and he’d been the one to come asking for advice. Why hold back now?

 

“And you, there for her at every turn...” Porco sighed, looking at him with a syrupy expression, “It is no wonder she grew attached so quickly...” 

 

“Be that as it may...” Bado countered, pointing a finger in challenge at the other man, “What good is any of it if I can’t keep a handle on myself when somethin’ happens? And how is... _loving_ that part o’ me supposed to help, anyway?” 

 

“If you find your gratitude for your past self and love him, you won’t have to be afraid anymore.” Porco explained, gesturing as if this was a very simple thing for him to have to explain. “You only lose control because you are afraid, you know.” 

 

“How d’ya figure that?” Bado asked flatly. 

 

“Because ‘he’ only resurfaces when you are afraid for her life, am I correct?” The chef challenged. Bado blinked, leaning back. “You feel a loss of control when she gets hurt. The idea that you cannot protect her is too terrible to think of for you, a man who has spent his life shielding others in one way or another. And so, you rely on the skills and instincts and mindset you cultivated in your military career..”

 

Bado frowned at the plump man before him. It was disturbing to hear himself described so precisely by a person he’d never considered close to himself. Just why was it this eccentric, flamboyant man seemed to know him so well, anyway? 

 

Porcoline was correct, of course... He’d reached for that person—the soldier, the fighter, the killer—the instant his present self had failed to shield Frey from harm. _He_ was strong enough to protect the people he’d cared about, so Bado had reached for him on pure reflex the instant the situation had crossed into unthinkable territory for him. 

 

“I take it as a good sign you abhor the harm you visited on others while cultivating your skills as a fighter.” Porcoline said gently, “but you needn’t condemn yourself completely. After all, if you had simply died back then the violence done by your hand would be all you left behind. That you have lived and grown and changed since coming to this town... that you feel remorse for the pain you caused... all of this gives your life meaning beyond the deeds of your time as a knight. But, that does not mean you cannot value that young man you were. His skills kept you and your friend safe. His experiences motivated your choices later on. He laid the foundation on which you would someday build your life here... and become the man our lovely Frey would fall so in love with that she would risk her life to protect him. Is not that man worth something? Do you not trust in her esteem for you?” Porcoline paused and added, not unkindly but with more gravitas than usual: 

 

“ _You_ are here today, princess’ Frey’s chosen lover, because _he_ never gave up.” 

 

The dwarven blacksmith swallowed, meeting the chef’s blazing blue eyes and staring, long and bewildered, into them. 

 

Was all of that true? He hadn’t expected to be dazzled by a coherent and reasonable argument from the person he’d previously pegged as the silliest man in all of Selphia, and perhaps Norad altogether as well. His brow furrowed and he looked down, thinking hard. 

 

 _“If I’m grateful to myself for sticking it out all these years... for doin’ all the things that put me there in that shop when_ she _needed me... that’ll keep her safe from me?”_ He chewed his lip, not yet understanding why it sounded like it just might work. 

 

“We make our worst mistakes when fear and anger seize our hearts, my friend.” Porco said gently, “When you have made peace with yourself you will be that much more fortified against such ‘demons’.” 

 

“D’ya really think so?” Bado sighed, “She’ll be safe if I stop hating the person I was?” 

 

“Yes... You believe you cannot control your ‘other self’ but the truth of the matter is, he is _not_ beyond your control. It only happens that way because you believe he is... that he is _other_ to you; that he is _not_ you. When you accept that he is you and you are he, you will again hold agency even when it feels like you have gone back to being the person you were long ago.” 

 

Bado stared intently at the odd, round chef as he said all these things. Where on Earth had he pulled all these words from? Ventuswill had known Porcoline would be able to help him, but now Bado couldn’t help but feel a burning curiosity. Where had this man come from? And who had _he_ been in his past lives to speak this way? The momentary bout of distraction passed, and Bado’s eyes fell to his hands. He considered the words, thinking back.

 

“When you have no more reason to hate or fear you, then others will follow your lead. If you love yourself, you allow her to love you, too.” Porcoline continued sagely. “You can only benefit from this course... so please, my friend...” 

 

“You...sound like Lily, ya know...” Bado said quietly, naming the woman—his best friend’s wife—who had done more than anyone to rescue him after he’d come to this strange little town.

 

“She was a woman possessed of incredible wisdom and compassion.” Porco said solemnly, “Not a day goes by that she is not missed.” Bado sighed again, feeling his resistance, his stress and pain and shock from the day’s events, begin to melt away. 

 

“If you need any further convincing,” Porco added, his tone suggesting he believed himself completely assured of victory, “You are happy Frey desires you, oui? You are glad she is with you?” 

 

“Well, yeah!” Bado said, almost indignantly, “O’course I am.” 

 

“Then you must _at least_ be grateful to the young knight you were for placing you in her path later in life, no?” 

 

Bado shook his head, a surrender in the soft chuckle he gave now. 

 

“I suppose.” He allowed, smiling sheepishly.

 

“You suppose correctly.” Porco replied with a little trill of laughter, himself. Bado sighed, shaking his head in defeat, but his heart felt lighter. 

 

“Alright... let’s say I’m on board. How the hell do I do this, anyway?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, this chapter turned out long as well. Porco always seemed to me to be a sort of Guru/Mentor character despite all his shenanigans. He is, after all, the person who collected Meg, Dylas, and Arthur, all of whom need a bit of looking after and brought them home with him. 
> 
> I know it might be a little presumptuous, but I do hope some of Porco’s words in this chapter can help out some of my readers, too. For me it has been extremely important to learn how to love and be grateful to myself, even my younger, more foolish self. I hope ruminating on those ideas will help you too! <3 
> 
> Pluuuuussssss DYLAS was eavesdropping! What do you suppose will be his reaction to hearing Bado brought low by his own anxieties and flaws? What about Porco’s advice? Do you think any of that will rub off on the sullen stallion?? (I for one can’t wait to find out when I finish writing it lol) 
> 
> Thank you so much, as always, for reading. I hope you enjoy this chapter full of some of my favorite sorts of writing. MM MM love me some dialogue, baby! Let me know what you think in the comments and have a fantastic week! See you next Sunday for the next update!


	35. Worriers

Dylas hugged his knees tightly where he sat, motionless, on the stairs, listening quietly to the oddly intimate conversation Porcoline was having with the man who might have broken Dylas’ neck if recent events had unfolded differently. Curiously the bewildering experience of hearing more details about the whole situation that had developed over the past two or three weeks from Bado’s point of view had not thrown him into grief, rage, or any other wild, agonizing emotion. He simply sat, head resting atop his knees, feeling...  _ sorry _ for the man...

 

It was so strange to admit, even privately in his own thoughts, that he could  _ relate _ to the jerk who’d stolen his girlfriend. Dylas knew what it was to get so caught up in a situation that he lost control of himself. He  _ knew _ the fear and pain and regret of hurting someone he loved just because he couldn’t keep his shit together when things got messy. Bado had come and humbled himself to Porco of all people out of a desperate desire to prevent such a thing from happening. Unlike Dylas, the blacksmith was doing his best to be proactive and actually  _ fix _ his issues one way or another. 

 

Dylas cringed. This wasn’t fair. he didn’t  _ want _ to feel sympathy for Bado. He just wanted to hate him for the part he’d played, the way he’d been for Frey what Dylas hadn’t been capable of being. He shook his head, wincing his eyes shut. He didn’t even  _ want _ Frey anymore. He had a new lover, now: the person who’d stuck by him through everything, all his mistakes and transgressions... so why did all of this still hurt so much? He sat quietly, ears trained on the two men in the room below... 

 

Bado listened intently as Porco elaborated in his strange, silly way of speaking, asking questions and repeating what Porcoline told him as if he were determined to carve the advice into stone in his mind. He sounded so determined, so unlike the wavering, uncertain person Dylas had been as long as he could remember. It  _ pissed him off! _

 

Why couldn’t  _ he _ have been confident in something despite all his flaws? By the sound of things, Bado was at least as messed up inside as Dylas, maybe  _ more _ ! So why did  _ he  _ get to move forward in spite of the pain, rather than be paralyzed and defeated by it?

 

Dylas shifted his weight and crept silently back up the stairs, brow furrowed. He didn’t want to hear any more of the blacksmith’s words, his resolve to be better for his lover. By the time he’d made it back to the doorway of his room, he’d forgotten his hunger and looked down with a thunderous expression at his slippered feet. 

 

“Something bothering you?” A smooth male voice asked suddenly. Dylas looked up sharply to find Arthur standing in the hallway. 

 

“S’nothing.” Dylas muttered, but he hesitated in the hall instead of passing into his room. Arthur didn’t miss it, by the way he tilted his head slightly and gave the half-monster a patiently expectant look. The prince said nothing, only waiting. Dylas sighed. 

 

“Bado’s down there talking to Porco.” He explained, sounding resentful. 

 

“Would you like me to go down and fetch you something from the fridge?” Arthur offered gently, though the look in his sharp, garnet-colored eyes suggested he knew the answer already. 

 

“No...” Dylas said, chewing his lip and looking away. 

 

“You heard something you did not like?” The regal young man suggested next. Dylas’ gold eyes flicked toward him and away again, enough of a confirmation for the prince to continue: “And now you are troubled. What was it, exactly?” Dylas took a deep breath and sighed it out. If he were so easy to read he might as well make use of the prince’s patience with him. 

 

“D’ya think I can be like that?” 

 

“Like what?” 

 

“Better...” 

 

“You believe Bado is better than you?”

 

“I—no! ...kinda—I dunno!” He made a frustrated sound, shook his pale blue hair and tried again: “What I’m talkin’ about is... better than I was before. He’s down there begging  _ Porco _ for advice because—because being  _ good _ for her is more important to him than anythin’ else, apparently.” The words stung on their way out of his own mouth. A slight snarl made its way into his expression, but the prince showed no sign of alarm whatsoever. “He’s doin’ what I didn’t, being what I couldn’t... for her.” 

 

“And you intend to compete with him?” Arthur inquired, sounding perfectly serene as if he already knew the script of this entire conversation in advance. 

 

“No!” Dylas hissed, then looked down, clenching his fists, “I don’t—she—Frey doesn’t want me. There’s no point. What I’m talkin’ about is...” 

 

“Doug?” Arthur offered, a small, victorious smirk curling the corner of his mouth. Dylas’ golden eyes snapped up to meet the prince’s garnet colored ones. 

 

“...Yeah...” Dylas admitted finally, looking warily at the prince, waiting for some kind of accusation. None came. Arthur only nodded his head graciously: an invitation. Dylas drew in a deep breath, sighed it out slowly, and steadied himself. 

 

“I want to... I don’t want to mess up this time.” He said slowly. Arthur chuckled merrily, spiking the hair up on Dylas’ ears and tail. He flushed crimson and scowled at the prince. 

 

“My apologies.” Arthur said, “I know what you mean to say, but I assure you: you, Doug, Frey,  _ and _ Bado are  _ all _ going to mess up... often, and in new and interesting ways.” He smiled gently at the once-guardian’s perplexity. “Making mistakes is how we learn. Look at you now, in this very moment: Your recent missteps with Frey are informing your choices when it comes to Doug. It is a beautiful thing, is it not? The way we evolve?” 

 

“‘Goes without saying a screw-up is gonna screw up.” Dylas growled. “So what’s your point in reminding me?” 

 

“To try and teach you that rather than being constantly afraid of what you will do wrong, you should—and are trying, by the sound of it—concentrate on what you will do  _ right _ . If you live in fear of making mistakes, you will still make them...  _ and _ you will suffer twice as much as you ought.” Dylas eyed him, saying nothing. Yes, he wanted to do right. All of this seemed obvious. When was the prince going to drop the other shoe? 

 

“In short, yes my friend: you  _ can _ be better. You are being better right now, in this moment, than you were a week ago.” Arthur said, voice gentle, “Your heart is in the right place and the recent humbling you experienced seems to have put your head in the right place as well. Conditions are optimal for you to learn and grow as a person right now. I take it as an excellent sign that you came upstairs with the impressions you have, rather than simple hatred of your romantic rival.” 

 

“He ain’t—“ 

 

“Yes, I know. Not anymore. There is certainly no chance of him interfering with your relationship to Doug, after all.” Arthur chuckled, adjusting his glasses with graceful fingertips. “But, you  _ do _ admire his resolve when it comes to his relationship. And by the sound of it, you are very keen to emulate his determined efforts. So, begin by absorbing this advice, as he is doing with Porcoline as we speak:  _ remember _ this feeling.” Arthur paused seriously, staring directly into Dylas eyes. Dylas gulped. The prince let the silence hang for a very long, very pointed moment, then elaborated: 

 

“There will come a time when you feel angry, sad, frustrated, or any number of other emotions that will inhibit your better nature in the moment. You  _ will _ make mistakes, that much is certain, as you said. However, if you can be mindful of what it felt like to think only of how to be better in the interest of your partner and your relationship,  _ that  _ more than anything will protect your bond. Humility is not weakness. And, sooner or later you will begin to recognize your feelings without their having to overwhelm you. You will be able to describe what is going on inside you instead of exploding. At that point, if your partner is motivated by compassion for you, which we must assume he is, given his recent actions, you both will be able to address whatever the issue is  _ without _ a dramatic scene. Until then, you must  _ trust _ that things are as they should be.” 

 

“What?” Dylas demanded. “How is me screwing up and hurting the people I care about ‘as it should be’?” 

 

“I’m a little disappointed you have not made the connection already, but I will of course be happy to explain: You’ve said already that Frey does not want you and you no longer covet her affection. In truth, I do not know if you two were ever destined to be very good partners to one another. It  _ might _ have gone on quite some time. You might have even gotten married,” Arthur added, cutting off Dylas’ reflexive protest before it began, “But I do not believe either of you truly inspired growth in one another as a couple.” 

 

“If you’re just trying to rub that in—“ Dylas protested, but Arthur held up a forestalling hand. 

 

“If I may finish,” He said, still graceful but somewhat firmer now, “The events that ended your relationship to Frey were understandably traumatic for all parties involved, but they  _ did _ pave the way for all four of you to find partners more suited to you. I am still waiting to see what kind of relationships you all will have with your new lovers; anything could happen, it’s true, but at minimum I see better ingredients for prosperity in these matches.” 

 

“Y-you do? You think Doug and I—you think we have a chance?” Dylas ventured, ears flattened down, but eyes lifted hopefully. 

 

“Indeed.” Arthur confirmed with a smile. “Doug has had his silvery eyes on you from the first, I believe. But, never in all the time you and Frey were together did he lift a finger to obstruct your relationship. His appears to be a very unselfish love. I think you are remarkably fortunate.” He added, something enigmatic entering his gaze, “No matter how you err, there always seem to be people around you who can see past it all to your essential goodness. Beyond that, there always seems to be someone ready to love you, even.” Dylas flushed, face burning, tail lashing furiously. He looked away. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? Arthur watched him. From the corner of his eye, Dylas could  _ swear _ there was something somewhat pleased about his slightly sharp expression, as if he was a little gratified to have punished Dylas for his good fortune by embarrassing him a bit. 

 

“In any case,” The prince added, finally releasing them both from the moment, “While I  _ am _ most pleased to hear you are in the frame of mind you are at present, I believe you have very little to worry about regarding your new relationship. Enjoy it! The honeymoon phase of any romance is a treat to be relished.” He grinned. 

 

“O-okay.” Dylas rasped, face still burning. “Th-thanks.” 

 

“Before too long, however, I think you should try to make peace with our lazy blacksmith.”

 

“What?!” Dylas demanded, color draining from his face as suddenly as it had appeared. 

 

“Need I really repeat myself?” Arthur sighed. 

 

“No I mean—“ 

 

“He is an integral part of our community, as are you.” Arthur explained, steel entering his voice, “And you cannot avoid each other for long since it  _ is _ a rather  _ small _ community. There is no room for feuds in Selphia, my friend.” 

 

“But how am I supposed to—“ 

 

“I did not say it must be this instant.” Arthur countered, waving a hand dismissively. Dylas bit his tongue, feeling frustrated. “But as you have just heard, he has no wish to harm anyone, even you. And, by your own account it sounds as though you find the man somewhat relatable. You have in common an unfortunate temper problem, do you not?” He raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow at the half-monster. 

 

“And you think the two people most likely to lose it should talk to each other more?” Dylas countered flatly. 

 

“Yes.” Arthur said simply. 

 

“Tch.” Dylas spat. “You’re crazy.” 

 

“I am most certainly not.” The prince said coolly. “You cannot spend the rest of your lives avoiding each other. Believe me, the same lecture is coming to him, even if I am not the one to deliver it. Besides,” He added, “It is the best way to make peace with  _ her _ as well.” Dylas stared at the prince, heart stopping for the barest moment. 

 

“You think she... You think she’ll ever speak to me again?” 

 

“She already has, correct?” 

 

“I mean other than to threaten me.” Dylas grated. 

 

“Yes. I heard what she said to you.” Arthur said seriously, “Similar to her very large boyfriend downstairs, her bad behavior stems from the desire to protect whom she cares about. I dare say you would posture similarly were it  _ her _ threatening  _ Doug _ by her actions.” Dylas ducked his head as if Arthur had thrown something at him. He frowned, ears flattening. Would he? Probably... true, his relationship to the pipsqueak dwarf was brand new, but as he cautiously examined his feelings he found he was indeed protective of his new lover. “So, it stands to reason that if you cease to be a threat to Bado in her eyes, she will finally have leisure, emotionally, to consider restoring peace between you two.” 

 

Dylas looked down, hands clenching and unclenching, anxiety churning inside him. Be a better man for Doug, make peace with Bado, and eventually... talk to  _ her _ again... It all seemed like a veritable  _ mountain _ that Arthur had asked him to carve away with only a toothpick, given his level of skill with interpersonal matters. He sighed. 

 

“It will all be easier than you think.” Arthur said, sounding pleased.

 

“How’d’ya figure?” Dylas grumbled. 

 

“Because you clearly think it is impossible.” The prince chimed. “So your expectations will be most overturned when you find out otherwise. Despite all three of you recently blundering about causing mayhem and injuring one another, I think you will in time realize that you are each wonderfully kind and sensible people—at least in every area but business, in Bado’s case...” The prince grumbled under his breath. It was no secret he  _ itched _ to correct Bado’s practices for simple efficiency’s sake but the big blacksmith had made it well known what he thought of the prince’s interference in his business. 

 

“I’ll... try.” Dylas finally acquiesced, Unsure whether he felt more encouraged by Arthur’s prognosis of his potential with Doug, or dismayed over the idea of trying to mend matters with his ex and her very  _ large _ new beau. 

 

“Good.” Arthur nodded. “I’ll bring you something from the kitchen.” He added, smirking as Dylas’ stomach growled at the mention of food. 

 

* * * * * 

 

Frey plodded along the wide, flat paving stones of Selphia’s streets, sighing. Anxiety bent her brow like a lead weight pulling her down. He’d left again. It was becoming a pattern. Would he always flee form her in times when he felt overwhelmed? Would she always have to go in search of her boyfriend to mend matters? Not that she could blame him, she thought glumly. 

 

“ _ I’m steadily pushing him away, aren’t I? I just keep pushing  _ myself _ on him: my wishes, my opinions, my body... what if he doesn’t really want this? It’s been me insisting all this time that we should try this. And he’s put up at least a little resistance at almost every turn...”  _

 

She chewed her lip, eyes downcast. Volkanon had warned her not to disregard Bado’s impressions and concerns regarding their relationship. And, he hadn’t seemed all that confident that they were a good match to begin with. Did  _ this _ have to do with her age or maturity? She saw herself as—and  _ felt _ —more mature than half the young people around this town. It was hard to know for sure what her age was, given her amnesia, but Xiao Pai, Amber, Clorica, and even Meg  _ seemed _ younger than herself. Though, knowing the long-eared races lived quite a bit longer than humans, it was impossible to guess Meg’s age just by looking. For that matter, how old  _ was _ Bado? Frey flushed red for no one as she realized she did not actually know. She’d always put him in his thirties or forties in her mind, but who knew, really? Dwarves could live to be half again as long as the average human. He might look thirty-something well into his sixties or seventies! Her brows knitted more tightly together. 

 

Actually, that made this whole notion even more complicated. If a dwarven man like Bado didn’t show his years like a human man, what  _ was _ the exact importance of the number? Volkanon had said it came down to life experience and whether the older member could be patient with the younger. What if she simply annoyed him with her inexperience and bull-headedness? He’d never acted as if that were the case, but what if she’d simply missed it?

 

She shook her head as if trying to dislodge the thoughts. All these anxieties didn’t suit her. Typically she was so much more grounded than this! Since when did her confidence desert her over a man, anyway?  _ She’d  _ been the one to ask Dylas out.  _ She’d  _ been the one to make the first move on Bado as well! She was the earthmate who felled the Sechs Empire, damnit! She would  _ not _ be defeated by this! 

 

Her feet stopped short on the stones and she lifted her head. She was standing before the smithy again... This same place she kept coming back to again and again. Her hand lifted toward the handle but hesitated. 

 

_ Should I go in? What if he just wants some space? _

 

Maybe she should wait for the big blacksmith to come to her when he was ready? Damn it all... she  _ hated _ waiting with this churning worry inside her. But, trying to force him to think one thing or another or do something before he was ready to hadn’t helped anything so far. Better to avoid doing any  _ more _ damage for today. She sighed, her hand falling back down to her side, and turned southward. 

 

“Frey?” A woman’s voice called curiously, “What is the matter, dear?” She looked up to find Nurse Nancy standing, arm in arm with her husband before the place where Frey stood in the street. 

 

“Oh, hello Nancy. I’m fine...” She said in dull tones, shifting her weight to turn and walk away. 

 

“You do look rather pale and wilted.” Dr. Jones added. “Perhaps you should come inside the clinic for a moment so we can have a look at you. Remember what I said about monitoring your health closely following your injury.” He added in warning tones. 

 

“ _ Damnit...”  _ She thought, clenching her teeth behind closed lips. There was nothing for it; the pair of medical busybodies were not likely to give up now. She had little choice but to go with them. 

 

“Fine.” She sighed, shuffling along beside them around the corner to the Little Bandage clinic. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More anxieties. At least Arthur is scooting Dylas toward the right path!  
> UGH I can’t wait until Frey and Bado finally get on the same damn page. I’ve had the scene half-written for months and months! Just been slowly building toward it all this time!! 
> 
> It’s coming sooooon! Plus, Doug and Dylas haven’t even kissed yet! We still have a lot of adventures to get sorted out and I haven’t even mentioned Venti’s deal yet! 
> 
> Thanks, as always for reading! Be sure to let me know any thoughts or impressions you have in the comments! I do so love reading them <3 
> 
> Have a great week and take care until next week’s update! :)


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